


The Mother We Share

by Sara__bande



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Focus, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Multi-Character POV, spoilers for all routes, tw: suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 24,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20980022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara__bande/pseuds/Sara__bande
Summary: She looks so much taller in this portrait, and her lilac eyes feel cold as they bare into her from the frame. Her hands are clasped in front of her, and her chin is held high. The artist hadn’t quite captured the dolly-ness of her face though, how small and round and pretty it is. She wonders whether that was an artistic blunder, or an express order from the Emperor herself. She watches Dimitri as he examines it. His chest is puffed slightly as he holds his breath.  After a few moments, he sighs, his body language deflating, and turns to her.‘If I ask her to meet with us, do you think she’ll come?’Byleth, hurt by Edelgard's betrayal at the Holy Tomb, agrees to side with Dimitri and the Blue Lions. Dimitri learns to move on, and Edelgard parses her memories, struggling to seperate her own identity from the one that was constructed for her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, to restate in better detail the content warnings that are listed in the tags:  
-This story features suicidal ideations and impulses. There are further descriptions of mental illness as well, though they are generally in keeping with what is already discussed in the game.  
-The relationship between Dimitri and Edelgard is ambigious, and could be read as romantic or platonic.
> 
> If either of these are an issue for you, then please don't read. 
> 
> Secondly, this story presumes that you have at least played the Azure Moon route, but preferably Silver Snow or Verdant Wind as well. I have tried to avoid recapping scenes from the game as much as possible, so you really do need the context of Azure Moon to understand a lot of key events that aren't rewritten here.
> 
> With that out of the way, I really hope you enjoy!

Byleth has done this hundreds of times. Nothing about the situation is special. Block his advance, a heavy shove into his shoulder, and then her sword through his stomach. It’s like clockwork. The only thing that sets this battle apart from all the others is the feeling of three sets of eyes burning into her back every time she turns.   


She catches the blond boy looking at her, eyes wide in awe and maybe a little bit of fear. The boy with the braid laughs, though it’s breathless, and makes a comment to the white haired girl. She can’t make out what he said over the din of the battle, but the girl doesn’t respond to him anyway, only continues to look at Byleth with her eyes narrowed in concentration.   


It’s all a bit unsettling. She grips the hilt of her sword a little tighter. The man who seems to be the leader of the group of thieves is approaching now. She stands her ground, poised to attack. He doesn’t go down as easily as his men, but she manages to knock him to the ground after a brief struggle. She surveys the field. Her dad is on the far side of the forest, and looks to be making his way back over to her. She looks behind her. The white haired girl is standing by a tree, still staring at her. She steps aside, waiting for her dad to reach her before trying to take on the leader again.

Her attention is pulled back to the fray when the man she had grounded springs back up to his feet. He’s charging forwards, but not towards her. He’s heading straight for the white haired girl. She watches her blink in surprise, and then her face falls when she realizes what’s happening. The girl pulls out a dagger as soon as she sees him running towards her, as if on instinct. A tiny knife like that isn’t going to do her any good. Byleth begins to run before she can decide what she’s going to do next.   


She’s not an impulsive person- in fact, she’s been told that she’s quite the opposite. But now she stands with back turned to her assailant, her arm raised protectively over the girl’s head. The girl is close enough that she can hear her heavy breathing, heart thumping. Their knees are touching, and she can feel that the other girl’s are trembling. She braces herself for pain.   


Then, everything is black, and she thinks she must be dead. That girl, the one from her dreams, appears from the darkness. 

‘What were you thinking?!’’ She asks, overly familiar and incensed.

‘I don’t know.’ Comes her reply, and it’s strangely echoey in that familiar room. The girl sighs.

‘Well, I suppose it’s fine. It seems I have managed to stop the flow of time, for now.’ She rises from her tall throne, and claps her small hands in enthusiasm.

‘It’s time for me to guide you from now on, right? So, when I start time again, you had better be properly prepared this time.’

Byleth nods, as thought hearing this were the most natural thing in the world.

‘And don’t make a habit of throwing yourself in front of axes to save young girls, alright?! If you get yourself killed, then I’m dead too!’

Her voice rings in her ears as the world comes back into view. She’s standing where she was, watching the grounded man get back on his feet to charge the white haired girl down.   


This time, Byleth is ready. She intercepts his path before he can realize he’s in front of her, and she parries his axe with a strong strike of her own. The force behind her blow sends the man flying, and this time he stays down. She turns to face the girl behind her. She’s smiling. She feels relieved.   


\--

Byleth never imagined grass could be quite this green. The grounds are lush beyond anything she’s seen before, the trees tall and dark and standing over her like towers. That vibrancy was the first thing she noticed about Garreg Mach. The second was the way that the purple ribbons in Edelgard’s hair matches the purple of her eyes. Now, she’s noticing that Dimitri’s cape has much the same effect, the cobalt draped over his shoulders brightening the icy blue of his irises.   


He’s been giving her a tour of the monastery for the past two hours, diligently showing her every inch of the place, and explaining questions that she hasn’t asked yet. He talks a lot more than anyone she has spent time with before, and his manner of speech is formal, but it’s not unpleasant by any means. He only discusses things of relevance, and his bearing is relaxed enough. She doesn’t feel stiff in his presence, though she finds his apologies and politeness a little difficult to maneuver at times.

They’re circling back around to where they started, which is the courtyard outside the homerooms for each house. 

‘Was there anything else you wanted to ask about?’ He asks her. She stops to think for a moment. Her mind is overflowing with new information that she hasn’t had time to digest yet. She surveys the grounds one more time; something catches her eye. It’s the girl from before- Edelgard. She’s standing in the shade of a nearby tree, watching them. Byleth catches her eye; the other girl stands to attention, and starts to walk towards them.

Dimitri follows Byleth’s eyeline. His demeanour stiffens when he realizes who’s approaching. She notices how he watches the younger girl, his brow slightly furrowed and eyes clouded with an emotion that she can’t read. His head turns to follow where she walks- she comes to stand beside her. Dimitri clears his throat.

‘Oh, Edelgard. I was just showing the new Professor around the monastery. Would you care to join us?’ He offers. His expression is measured, but his voice raises a little in hope as he delivers his invitation. 

‘I’m sure you have given her a fine tour all by yourself. Are you two almost finished, by the way? I came here to have a word with the Professor.’ Her voice is unmistakably icy, and she’s staring at her, not Dimitri. 

Dimitri frowns, sighs through his nose and takes a step back.

‘Very well. I hope that will suffice for now. If you have any other issues, I would be happy to assist.’

Edelgard only looks at him once he turns his back to leave, her eyes drawn in concentration. Byleth feels she’s evaluating him, just as she has been evaluating her. He stops after a few paces and faces them again. 

‘Perhaps the three of us could have dinner together once you are finished. I could even invite Claude, if you like.’ He smiles. She hesitates. She’s not good with this kind of thing.

_ ‘His face is kind.’  _ Sothis offers. That assurance was enough for her, and so she nods to indicate her acceptance.

‘Alright. We’ll meet you there, then. Don’t be late.’ says Edelgard, who had been watching Byleth for a reaction before offering a response of her own. Her voice is significantly warmer than it had been a few moments ago. Dimitri’s face momentarily falls in surprise at the shift in tone, but quickly picks back up into a grin. He waves goodbye and takes his leave.

Edelgard turns to face her once he’s out of view.

‘You seem to be settling in well.’ She says, but Byleth can tell that her success in the academy is not what she has come here to talk about.

‘Yes.’

Edelgard doesn’t stall in pursuit of the information that she’s looking for. She has a straightforward nature. That makes her easy to talk to.

‘Back in that village- did you truly not suspect who we were?’

‘No.’

‘And you really did not know that your father was a former captain of the Knights of Seiros?

‘No.’

Edelgard frowns.

‘You don’t seem to be playing coy, but I find that rather impossible.’ 

‘He never told me about it.’

‘I see. In any case, there’s something else I’d like to ask of you.’

She nods.

‘You have been asked to choose a house to lead. I would ask that you choose mine. Your strength is impressive- it would be wasted on the other two.’

‘Um…’

She waits for input from Sothis, but nothing comes. She’s drawing a blank on what to say. She likes them all. Edelgard is easy to talk to, Dimitri is helpful, and Claude is funny. Analyzing people’s personalities beyond that is not something she feels capable of. She is so very out of depth already, and she has only just arrived. Edelgard looks irate at her lack of reply, and she figures she must have spent too long thinking about this.

‘I have to talk to Rhea about it.’ Comes her weak response. 

She catches a frown on Edelgard’s face, but it lasts only for a moment. 

‘Very well. I have something I must attend to before dinner. If you’ll excuse me.’ She turns on her heel and leaves. 

_ ‘Wellll? Who shall it be?’ _

Byleth stammers, trying to find a coherent train of thought in the swarm of information that’s coursing through her mind.

‘Why didn’t you help me?’

_ ‘I wanted to see what you’d say. But as usual, you are paralyzed without my guidance. Well, too bad. I’m not going to help you with this one.’ _

She hasn’t got time to consider this any further. Dimitri can be overwhelming, and she always feels like Claude knows something that she doesn’t. Edelgard, however, is reserved and forthright, much like herself. And she doesn’t know why, but ever since that night in Remire Village, she has felt drawn to her, too. 

I- I suppose- E-’

Sothis cuts her off before she can finish her sentence.

_ ‘Oh, you’re choosing  _ her?  _ Even after that kind boy took the time to show you around? Well, I suppose I can’t be too surprised. You did almost get yourself killed for her, after all. Do you often act out so rashly, I wonder? Or was there something else to it?’ _

Byleth frowns.

_ ‘What is it that draws you to her?’ _

Without realizing that she’s doing it, Byleth stops in place. 

‘I don’t know.’

‘You don’t know what, Teach? Which house to choose? I told you already, right?’

She looks up, and is met with a dazzling sight. Claude is all rich yellows and deep, brassy golds, and his green eyes are unlike anything she’s seen before. He’s winking at her, his posture as relaxed as ever.

‘Oh, Claude.’

‘Where are you heading?’

‘The dining hall.’

‘Well, what a coincidence. I was on my way there too. C’mon.’ He says, and he links his arm in hers. Byleth stiffens a little at the sudden contact, but relaxes when his easy laughter fills her ears.

‘I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when we walk in together. Hey, tell them you chose my house, kay? Just to see how they react.’


	2. Chapter 2

Enbarr is further than Byleth had realized. It had taken them almost a full day to reach the palace, and another for Edelgard to sort out her affairs. The whole trip will have taken up about three days by the time they return to Garreg Mach, possibly the longest amount of time Byleth has spent away from it since she arrived. She sits in the grand carriage, waiting for her companion. She felt tiny as soon as she entered the palace, dwarfed by the grandiose architecture and the sprawling landscape that it sits on. Edelgard, however, had looked never looked more in her element. The palace seemed to restructure itself in her presence- dark, stony hallways would draw in closer to her, the floors raising beneath her to elevate her to her lofty throne. The crown itself was large, too, clearly designed for a man of wide bearing and not a teenage girl. Still, she can’t imagine it ever looking more at home than it did yesterday, adorning her head of white hair as she knelt before her father.

Edelgard meets her in the carriage after almost half an hour of waiting. She hesitates in the doorway, eyeing the seating opposite Byleth that she had occupied on the way here. Byleth smiles at her, and slides herself down to the far end of the bench that she’s sitting on, hoping that she’ll position herself beside her this time. Edelgard’s eyes shift from one portion of the floor to the other, but she looks up to return her smile and sits down with a little sigh.   


The exterior of the carriage is stunning, and the inside even more so, all gold filigree and red velvet upholstery. Byleth sinks further into the plush cushioning at her back, and relaxes into the comfortable atmosphere. It’s nice to sit in silence with Edelgard. She seems at ease too, all things considered. Her head is turned to her, and she gazes from the window at the bright greens and pinks of the palace garden flitting past them.   


Edelgard turns back to face the carriage wall once they’ve left the palace. Byleth watches her for a moment. Her side profile is pleasant, her nose a soft slope, her jawline strong and defined. 

‘Do you feel any different?’

Edelgard looks at her face-on, her expression still neutral. 

‘Not particularly,’ she says, crossing one leg over the other and resting her hands neatly by her side.

‘I have been preparing myself for this since I was a child, after all.’

Byleth nods.

‘Still, it is a little strange. To think that such a momentous thing is-’- she stops, and restarts her sentence.

‘Has happened, and only a handful of people are privy to it.’ 

Byleth nods again. Edelgard lets out a small, dainty laugh.

‘You’re not one for chatter, are you?’

‘I don’t see the point in it.’

Edelgard smiles at her, her eyes a little wistful. This is the closest Byleth has ever felt to her.

‘You and me both, my teacher.’   


She reaches down to retrieve a small wooden box from beneath the seat. She hadn’t seen her carry it in with her- she must have left it there earlier. She unclasps the latch and opens it, revealing a treasure trove of baked sweets, each individually wrapped and tied with a bow. 

‘I managed to get my hands on these.’ She turns the box towards Byleth, gesturing for her to take some. She hovers a hand over it for a moment before choosing one, a small dusty blue packet with royal blue ribbon. She rips through the paper and places the small, round pastry whole in her mouth. She notices Edelgard’s lips twitching at the corners as she watches her. 

‘It’s good. Cream cheese,’ she says, her mouth still full of food.

There’s that laugh again _ . Pretty,  _ Byleth absentmindedly notes to herself.

‘Yes. They’re a traditional sweet here in Enbarr. Popular at this time of year,’ she sets the box between them. 

‘You can have as much as you like.’

It’s Edelgard’s turn to eat now. She takes a considerably larger pastry than Byleth, and bites into it with more fervour than Byleth had thought possible for someone as dignified as her.

‘Your father called you El back there.’

Edelgard, still working through her dessert, looks a little surprised. She places the half eaten sweet neatly down on the wrapper, finishes chewing what’s left in her mouth, and then wipes crumbs off her lap, looking a little embarrassed. She clears her throat.

‘Yes. It was my nickname, when I was much younger.’

Byleth glances out the window, and then back to Edelgard.

‘Do you like it?’ 

‘It’s… a double-edged sword, to tell you the truth. I feel little attachment to the girl who used to answer to that name. But...hearing you say it now, I feel a little nostalgic all the same.’

Byleth nods.

It’s dark by the time they near the monastery. The surrounding roads are empty, all of the people in the village already asleep by now. Byleth shuffles through her things, assuring everything is safely packed away in her bag for when they leave the carriage. 

‘My teacher,’ Edelgard says, breaking the silence. ‘Thank you for coming with me.’ 

Byleth smiles at her.

‘I’m glad I came.’

Edelgard smiles too, but she casts her gaze at the ground. 

‘After the ceremony at the Holy Tomb, I must return to Enbarr.’ She looks up. The carriage

comes to a halt in the courtyard outside the cathedral.

‘This may be the last we see of each other.’

Edelgard departs first, and Byleth follows after her. Her hair is bright under the moonlight. She walks faster now, and Byleth struggles to match her pace, almost falling over her own two feet to catch up to her. Her heels are loud on the cobblestones, and not once does she stop to look behind her. They are greeted by Rhea and the rest of their class in the foyer, and are escorted to the tomb. 


	3. Chapter 3

The Lone Moon is drawing to a close, and Edelgard had declared war. Byleth has just two weeks to organize what’s left of the student body into a formation that wouldn’t result in them marching head-first into their deaths. Many students were gone. Most went home to see to family matters, though the vast majority of Byleth’s former students had sided with the Empire. She had expected it, of course, and had given them the opportunity to leave in safe passage. Still, it was hard to watch. Lindhart seemed less sleepy, and more weary. Petra shouldered it with dignity, but she saw the conflict and pain on her face as they said their goodbyes, a hostage either way, forced into a war that she should have no stake in.   


It was a relief that Dorothea had remained. She had grown more melancholy since it happened, like a dimmed candle. Still, she’s a warming presence, and always greets Byleth with a smile, even if it has grown more tired than it was before. And when Bernadetta clasped Byleth’s hands behind the greenhouse to tell how she’s terrified to go back home, and how she feels safest when she’s with her, she felt she must have done the right thing.   


She’s closing out the final arrangements on her order of supplies when a knock at the door comes. 

‘Come in,’ Byleth calls. A dark figure cloaked in a shock of electric blue is now darkening her doorway. 

‘Dimitri? Have a seat.’ 

He nods politely and crosses the room in just a few long strides, settling himself stiffly in the chair across from her. His demeanour seems different since the last time she saw him. 

‘I was worried you went home. It’s good to see you.’ 

He smiles, but averts eye contact by looking at the ground.

‘It’s good to see you too, Professor. I am sorry for not checking in with you sooner.’

‘There’s no need to apologize for that. What’s on your mind?’

He looks up, and Byleth is startled by how dark the bags under his eyes.are. They blacken his entire profile, making his colouring appear more starkly white than the ivory it was before. His cheeks look hollowed out, and his lips are raw with patches of bitten off skin and dried blood.

‘I have a proposal for you. I would like you to join our house, as our teacher.’

He pauses, looking at the bookcase to his side. Byleth says nothing.

‘I...I know it may seem a little redundant, at this point. But the Blue Lions are the only class that has all students present, as of right now. They have expressed to me that they will stay, as long as we are able to join forces with you. With you, the Blue Lions, and the knights of Seiros, _ Edelgard  _ won’t stand a chance.’

She winces a little at the way he spits out her name as if it were a curse.

‘What do you say, Professor?’

She can’t quite manage a smile. The thought of opposing Edelgard makes her feel uneasy. She’s still grappling with the reality that was sprung upon her in a matter of a few moments. She likes Edelgard, very very much, and she has no particularly strong feelings for Rhea- if anything, she’s a little bit afraid of her. But Edelgard lied to her, and killed her dad, and everything feels strange without him, as though a strong gust of wind had come along and ripped the ceiling from over head. She’s angry, too, but despite herself, she has a hard time directing that anger towards Edelgard. However, Dimitri’s logic is sound, and it would be nice to have another familiar face around. With that, she makes another decision.

‘I think it’s a good idea. I’ll join you. I’ll also ask the remaining Black Eagles students if they want to join too.’

‘Wonderful,’ he says, and his voice sounds distant.

‘You and I shall have our revenge, then.’ 

She pauses. The question of revenge isn’t really one that she wants to parse right now, yet Dimitri continues.

‘Any affection that I once held for her is gone. I can see her for what she really is now. She’s a monster. She stacked the corpses of my family up at her feet, and still had the gall to come here and look me in the eye.’ 

He is staring right past her shoulder, and there’s equal parts glee and malice burning in his irises. He’s seeing something that Byleth can’t, answering a question that she didn’t ask. His gaze is vacant, as though he’s talking to someone else.

‘Your family… You mean, you think she was involved with what happened in Duscur?’

Dimitri’s face contorts into a furious grin. His chest shakes as though he were laughing, but she can’t hear any amusement in his voice.

‘I don’t think it. I know it.’

She blinks.

‘I will not be satisfied until I have wrung every last drop of blood from her body.’

Her mind’s eye insists on illustrating Dimitri’s words, and she feels bile rising up her throat. Uncertainty, her constant companion over the past few weeks, is creeping up on her once again. Without Sothis to guide her, making decisions is even more difficult.   


‘Very well.’ 

She weakly excuses herself, and stands. Dimitri stands with her, extended his arm for a handshake before she leaves. His hand is warm, but his grip is too tight. 


	4. Chapter 4

‘I have news, your Majesty. From Garreg Mach.’

Edelgard looks up from her desk, quill still in hand. Hubert has news everyday, but information from Garreg Mach is the most important right now. The time to close in on the monastery is drawing closer with each passing day, and her mind is weighed heavy with plans and possibilities. 

‘Yes?’

‘It would seem that the Professor has turned coat. She now stands with the Kingdom.’

Her brow furrows and she purses her lips.

‘I see.’

She knew that a few of them would leave her. Dorothea’s gentle heart could never accept war, no matter how just the cause, and Bernadetta had always been searching for a chance to escape. Still, when Byleth agreed to accompany her to Enbarr for her coronation, she allowed a tiny shoot of hope to bloom in her chest. It was inevitable that she would find out about the Flame Emperor, and would realize who was responsible for Jeralt’s death. It was foolish,_ childish _ of her to believe that she would have sided with her despite that. But hearing the final confirmation of her suspicions stings more than she would like to admit.

Her teacher was quiet, but she was kind, and she listened to her. She swore to herself that she wouldn’t grow attached, and yet she kept letting her further and further inside. She told her about her nightmares, and her dreams, all the while working with her uncle to devise her death. And now, when she tries to sleep, it’s her face that she sees behind her eyelids. 

‘She was the only person I had hoped not to make an enemy of.’ She says, against her better judgement, and she can feel Hubert’s eyes searching her face. She thumbs her finger over the edges of an envelope that she had prepared earlier, pressing the sharp edge against her forefinger. She knows she looks crestfallen- she cannot help it. 

‘While it’s true that she is a formidable enemy, there is no foe that we cannot best.’ 

He pauses.

‘You would do well to discard any affection you still hold onto now, lest your future judgement be clouded.’

That word,_ affection, _makes her flinch in her seat. She recalls her gentle smile, how she would secretly hoard every instance of it in her mind, clinging tight to those memories as though she were guarding a treasure trove. She doubts she’ll be able to forget them any time soon, no matter how hard she tries.

‘There’s no need to remind me, Hubert.’

With that, he bows and leaves. She turns her attention back to her unfinished letter. 

_ My Teacher, _

_ I hope this letter finds you well. I wish to express to you once more how grateful I am that you accompanied me to Enbarr for the coronation, and to thank you for all else that you did for me. Words cannot fully encompass my gratitude. Though I suspect you are well beyond convincing at this point, I wish to try one last time. And so I ask you to reconsider, and take your place by my side once more. _

Knowing what she knows now, there’s no point in finishing it. the folds the incomplete letter neatly in the envelope, seals it with wax, and moves to stand in front of the hearth. Then she lays the envelope flat over the burning wood in the fireplace, and watches closely as the paper turns black, crumples, and disintegrates.


	5. Chapter 5

Sothis’ voice still rings in Byleth’s ears. She hasn’t heard her in so long. She wishes she’d talk to her again, even if it’s just to scold her. Her words weigh heavy on her as she ascends the steps to the monastery once more. What has become of the world, since she left it? The only company she has here are the corpses of Imperial guards that are strewn across the ground, most of them mutilated beyond recognition. It’s enough to make her shudder- there’s surely some kind of beast dwelling within these walls now. She treads carefully on unsteady legs. She’s not confident that she’d be able to defend herself against whatever it is that has run its rampage here.

It’s dark inside. There’s a figure hunched over on the stony ground. He holds a lance, but she doesn’t recognize his face. He looks pained- he must have been injured by that monster too.

‘Are you alright?’

No response. She bends down to get a better look at him, and holds out her hand. A single icy blue eye squints at her from behind a shock of blond hair, and the breath she had been holding leaves her lungs with a gasp.

‘Dimitri?!’

He pulls away from her outstretched hand.

‘I should have known you’d come to haunt me as well.’

‘...What?’ Byleth asks, withdrawing her hand. He stands then, using his lance for support as she drags himself off the ground. 

‘I’ll kill her. I swear. Don’t look at me with such scorn in your eyes.’

He takes a few steps away from her, dragging his left leg slightly. He’s filthy, covered in dried blood and dirt. She doesn’t know what to say; she doesn’t even know if he’s talking to her, or to someone that only he can see.

‘I… It’s okay. Everything will be fine.’

His head snaps up in shock, and Byleth winces. She has no idea what was so riveting about her weak attempt at soothing him.

‘You- You’re alive?’

She hesitates._ I was missing for so long. He must have thought I was dead. _

‘Yes. I am.’

He moves closer to her now, until they’re standing face to face. He all but snarls at her as he begins to speak.

‘_She _ must have sent you here, then. To kill me. That’s where you’ve been all this time, isn’t it?’ He snarls, baring his teeth. Byleth flinches and moves away, but he only draws closer.

‘Another Imperial lapdog.’ 

With that single word, all her memories of Edelgard come flooding back at once. She feels unsteady on her feet.

‘No, it’s nothing like that. I was- I was asleep. For… for a long time, I think. I woke up, and then I found you.’

‘Ungh…’ he sighs, and moves away. Byleth is left staring at his back, the impressive expanse of his shoulders. 

‘I’m glad to see you again.’ She offers to the darkness, and twinges when she hears her meek words reverberate in the empty hall. No response. She walks closer to him still, and realizes how much he towers over her now.

‘Oh, Dimitri. You’ve gotten even taller.’

‘Silence. Stop this empty chattering now. If you insist on remaining here, you’ll pick up your weapon and drive out these rats.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all the timeline-hopping doesn't come off too choppy >: i promise the good stuff is on the horizon, now that the basis of the story is established! Juicy Edeleths in the next chapter~~~~~


	6. Chapter 6

She stands there alone for hours, on the outskirts of the village. The clip-clop of horse hooves signals the arrival that she’s been waiting for. The carriage is small and nondescript, guarded by only a handful of knights in plain clothing. It could belong to just about any minor noble. She breathes a sigh of relief.

Edelgard neatly descends the steps of the carriage, a black cloak shrouding her entire body, save for her face. The shadow that her hood casts over her features makes them hard to distinguish, but her eyes almost seem to glow in the dark of the night. She’s still tiny, and appears even smaller again for the size of the cloak that hangs loosely on her narrow shoulders. Byleth tries to keep her face neutral, but her stance betrays her. She stands in spot as if rooted to the ground, shoulders tensed as Edelgard comes closer to her.

‘Hello, Professor.’

Hearing that moniker on Edelgard’s tongue once again makes her feel strange. Her voice feels strained, so she nods her acknowledgement instead. Edelgard’s eyes are unreadable, searching her face for something. She wastes no time in leading her towards the monastery, walking a few paces ahead of her. The moon is bright and full, just like the last time they saw one another. There’s something like nostalgia seeping into her thoughts, as frantic and ridden with worry as they are.

She knows exactly which of the Blue Lions is leading night duty tonight, and she knows that by this hour he has already deserted his post to warm the bed of whichever girl has been unfortunate to find herself on the end of his advances. As for the other soldiers, a thorough scan of the roster for tonight and some handiwork in the kitchen was enough to take care of them. Beer had been passed out amongst everyone as a morale booster at dinner- in a move straight out of Claude’s book of tricks, Byleth had added a sizeable amount of straight gin to each of their glasses. It wasn’t enough to do any damage to them, but the potent mixture of the two different types of alcohol was easily enough to have them all either passed out in a bush or too unsteady on their feet to be an actual threat. She knows they’re vulnerable like this, and she knows it’s a cruel, self centered risk to be taking. But there seems to be a lot of that kind of sentiment in their camp these days.

They make their entrance from the marketplace gate. It should have been closed and locked, but she hid the key, and clearly no one had the willpower to search for it. This route entails walking past the stairway leading to nobility dormitories. Her knees feel shakier the closer they get. She hardly knows what Dimitri does during the day, much less at night- at the very least, though, she assumes he doesn’t sleep much, if the bags under his eyes are any indication. She figures passing by the stairwell shouldn’t pose too much of a threat.

Edelgard is walking beside her now, her gait as dignified as ever, her hands clasped together in front of her. Even in her disguise, anyone could tell that she’s a monarch. The tension is palpable between them, not helped by the fact that Byleth couldn’t even muster a proper hello. Her letter to her had been so vague about the purpose of the visit that she’s surprised she even showed up. In truth, she doesn’t even know why she wanted to see her, but once the thought came to her it wouldn’t leave her mind. The amount of trust that they’re putting in one another right now is staggering, but she doesn’t feel unsafe. She never does, around her. They’re rounding the corner to the dorms now, and her bedroom is in sight.

‘El.’ She whispers. Her nickname feels strange on her lips now, but calling her by anything else feels stranger still.

‘Take off your boots.’ 

Edelgard frowns slightly, but follows. Byleth lifts a foot up to do the same, steadying herself against the wall. The noise of their heels would have been far too loud on a night this quiet. Edelgard walks silently beside her, clutching her shoes to her chest. Their feet, now only covered by their tights, don’t make a sound on the grass. They reach her bedroom and enter.

Byleth sets her candle down, but the light is still barely enough to see her. She wants to see her. She lights another, and settles herself on the bed, her back pressed against the wall, knees pulled up to her chest. Edelgard straightens her skirt out and sits too, on the very edge of the bed. Her back is turned to her. She can fully make her out, now. Her dress is magnificent, crimson and gold and form fitted all around her torso, then flaring out into a pool of red at her waist. Her hair is tied up high, though it’s as long as it ever was. Her new hairstyle makes visible the heart shaped cut-out at her upper back, the elegant length of her neck.

‘How have you been?’

She whispers, having observed her for long enough. Edelgard sits perfectly still, and doesn’t reply for a few moments.

‘Is that really what you called me here to ask?’ 

Byleth shifts. She hadn’t managed to get this far, in her imaginings. Her mind feels woefully empty.

‘More or less.’

She catches a movement, Edelgard’s breath hitching in her chest. 

‘I’ve been well.’

Her voice is barely a whisper, and she doesn’t look at her at all. She yearns to move closer to her. 

‘Do you have anything you want to ask me?’

Edelgard looks over her shoulder briefly at her, and then back to the floor.

‘Many things. But hearing the answers now would be pointless.’

She isn’t good at this. She briefly wonders whether challenging her to a duel would have been a better way of communicating her emotions.

‘Just choose one of them, and ask me.’

Edelgard sighs. 

‘Very well. Why him?’

Byleth thinks for a while. There’s something formulating in her mind, something even she knows she shouldn’t say. She says it anyway.

‘What, you can’t see the appeal?’ No emotion registers on Edelgard’s face, and there’s no amusement in her voice.

‘Not at present.’ 

Another silence- she only has herself to blame for that one. She straightens her back up against the cold wall and prepares her real answer.

‘Because he asked me. Because I’m afraid of Rhea. And because you killed my dad.’ The dim light of the candles illuminates Edelgard’s cheekbones, and she chooses to stare at those instead of thinking about what she’s just said.

‘Is that what you really wanted to talk about?’

‘Yes.’

Edelgard shifts then, but only to rearrange her hands, placing them neatly in her lap.

‘I didn’t orchestrate it. But I was aware of it, and so I was complicit in it.’

‘I figured as much.’ Edelgard turns her head to look at her. Her eyelashes are long, and flutter low above sad eyes. She’s never seen her look quite so vulnerable before.

‘What do you want to hear, then?’

Her voice is raised a little more, not whispering but not quite speaking aloud, and her question is genuine, filled with a poignant wish to soothe. She’s glad she arranged this.

‘Nothing. I just wanted...some kind of closure.’

She turns fully now, her legs neatly pressed together on the bed. It feels a little surreal, being this close to her once again.

‘All right. You’ve done much for me, my teacher. I have not forgotten that. I’ll give you some closure, and then we’re even.’ She pauses, eyes glancing sideways towards the door. Byleth waits in silence for her to gather her thoughts.

‘It is regrettable that it had to happen. In hindsight, it may have been more valuable for us to try to keep him alive, in hopes of swaying you to our side. But relying on others, no matter who they may be, is a far greater risk than I’m willing to take.’ She takes a breath, as if she was about to say something, but lets it go. After a moment, she speaks again.

‘I cannot allow anyone to get in my way, my teacher. Unfortunately, that includes you.’

Byleth falls quiet. That is just about exactly what she expected to hear. Somehow, it makes her feel relieved. She hates her actions, hates that she’s hurt so many countless people. But she doesn’t hate El.

‘I understand. Thank you. And, I want to ask you one other thing.’ She’s going to resolve everything tonight, and then move forward. 

‘Yes?’ 

‘Were you involved in the Tragedy of Duscur?’

Edelgard replies instantly this time. 

‘No, and I’ve told him as much, but he won’t believe me. He’ll never believe me.’

Byleth goes to speak again. Then, her head snaps up. Footsteps. Nearing her door. Pacing, by the sounds of it. Edelgard has gone quiet too- still, without thinking, Byleth reaches her arm around her head and forces her hand over her mouth. Edelgard’s lips, parted with shock, are soft and wet against her palm.

The footsteps keep coming, heavy and rhythmic, up and down, crunching the autumn leaves. She closes her eyes, bracing herself for the door to creak open. Seconds stretch into minutes. Her chest is pressed tight against Edelgard’s exposed back, and she can feel the other girl’s heart thumping. It almost feels as it could be her own heart beating. Eventually, the footsteps shuffle away, slowly, into the distance, in the direction of the training grounds. Still, they don’t move for a few moments. Edelgard’s breathing comes heavy, and her breath is warm against her hand.

Eventually, Byleth unfurls herself from around her, and draws the curtains enough to peak at the moon. She feels colder without that close contact. The sun is threatening to come up within the next hour- it’s now or never.

‘Let’s go.’

‘Is it safe?’ 

She cracks the door open, and surveys the area. There’s no one around, and it’s still dark enough that their cloaks will give them cover. Still, the thought that Dimitri may be closeby is enough to make the knot in her stomach pull even tighter. 

‘It should be.’ 

They drape their cloaks over their shoulders and run, barefoot through the dewy grass. It takes them about half an hour to reach where her carriage is stationed. They don’t say a single word the entire way- but things have always been like this, when it’s her and El. It’s a comfortable, easy silence, even in the heaviest of situations. Edelgard turns to her.

‘Goodbye, Professor.’ 

Byleth can feel words clawing up her throat, burning on her tongue like whiskey. But her lungs feel deflated, her mind can’t connect, and she’s once again left speechless when she needs to speak the most. Frustration fires up her spine. Edelgard is still waiting for a response. Realizing it’s a futile endeavor, she sighs.

‘The next time we meet shall be the last.’

She turns to ascend the carriage. Byleth launches forward before she can disappear fully behind the curtains, grabbing into thin air but somehow managing to catch her forearm. 

Edelgard’s eyes are wide, but she doesn’t look afraid. Byleth reaches her arms around her neck, and kisses her. Her lips are soft, and she tastes like tea and something else, something that belongs only to El. It’s pleasant. Her left hand settles on the small of her back, and she strokes her right thumb against her neck, where she can feel her pulse. Edelgard’s chest is heaving, and Byleth can feel her shaking, her arms stiff and raised by her sides, bent at the elbow. Byleth pulls away as quickly as she came, moving down to the last step of the carriage. The words still won’t come to her, and she has never seen so many emotions on Edelgard’s face at once. Her eyes are undeniably hurt, almost as if she could cry, but somehow still soft with affection. Her mouth is still agape in shock. Byleth immediately feels awful.

‘El-’

It’s too late. The horses take off at a gallop, and Byleth falls out of the carriage and onto her back. She lies there, staring up at the moon, fanning her fingers through the wet grass, her eyes burning with tears that refuse to fall.

\----

She makes the trek back to Garreg Mach on shaking legs, eyes glued to the ground. Her mind is only half functional, feeling emotions but unable to process them. Unbearably silent, too- she misses Sothis more than ever. Still, she pulls the cloak tighter around her shoulders and continues on.

Her shoulder collides with something hard and metallic, and she falls flat on her back once again from the force. She peers up at him, and briefly thinks about all of the Imperial soldiers who have met their violent end taking in this same view. There’s no wrinkles on his face, even with the shadows casting their unflattering light- he’s still so young. 

‘Where were you?’ He asks her, but it hardly even sounds like a question, and he’s staring elsewhere, at something in the distance that only he can see.

‘I couldn’t sleep.’ She curses internally as she hears her voice quivering.

‘Where are all of the night guards?’ 

‘I don’t know, Dimitri.’

He’s angry, she thinks, but it’s hard to tell. He used to be easy to read, but he’s so detached lately that she can never tell what he’s thinking. She feels ridiculous lying there, but she’s unsure of whether she stand back up. Dimitri looks down then, cocking his head a little to get a proper view of her. 

‘I hope you know I don’t tolerate rats amongst my keep.’ he says, but it’s in that same deflated, detached tone. She clenches her fist tight. Does he know? Did he see them? Is he angry? His gaze doesn’t flinch. Her mouth is dry, and her mind is racing, searching for the right thing to say- though something tells her there is no right answer. 

‘I’m not… I’m with you, Dimitri.’

His good eye narrow in response, almost flinching at her words. 

‘Leave if you want to. Just stay out of my way.’

He steps away. She watches him leave. She’s frightened of him like this- but she’s more frightened_ for _him. They were close, in the monastery, but not as close as she was with El, and she doesn’t know how to talk him down from the ledge that he’s standing on. But she can’t leave him like this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're enjoying, please leave a kudos or a comment, it really helps! the story is already written, it just needs to be revised, so I should be able to upload the next batch of chapters next week. 
> 
> thanks so much if you've made it this far <3


	7. Chapter 7

Byleth has seen a lot, but she has never seen chaos like what’s unfolding before her eyes at Gronder. The smell of blood and burning ground fills her lungs, making her nauseous. She has lost track of Dimitri- he charged ahead and disappeared into a sea of enemy soldiers, and hasn’t re-emerged since. She doesn’t have time to think about whether he’s alive or not- not when the rest of her students are fighting tooth and nail beside her.

Another shower of fire rains down from the sky above them. She snaps around, ignoring the searing burn on her shoulder, to make sure no one is harmed. Ashe is lying on the ground, holding his now-blackened arm and screaming in agony. 

_ ‘Healer!’ _ she shouts, her stomach in knots at the sight. Mercedes emerges, reliable as ever. Her staff emits a golden glow as she works, her eyes calm but her head swivelling at any sound, any potential threat. Dedue stays close to them, fighting off any would-be assailants.

She moves to close in on an unwitting Imperial mage, her sword pointedly solidly at his back- until the droning sound of heavy beating wings fills her ears. She turns to look at the sky. An Empire pegasus knight is descending on her with incredible speed, her lance poised to strike right through her chest. The flurry of feathers and hooves is upon her in an instant, and she loses her footing. The spear is centimetres from her- and then it isn’t. 

‘Watch out, Teach!_ ’ _comes a voice from above, and the horse drops unceremoniously from the sky, rider along with it, a bow piercing her back.

‘Claude!’ Byleth cries. He’s a vision before her- his white wyvern is spectacular, and the crimson and gold draped over him makes him look the part of a fairytale prince from a faraway kingdom. His face is even more handsome than it was before, but he looks hardened. His easy smile seems miles away now.

‘Good to see you too, Teach. Say, think you could control your friend over there? He’s about to charge headfirst into my defensive lines.’ 

She stands and follows his eyeline to the dark figure in the distance, running towards a dense group of soldiers dressed in yellow. 

‘Sorry, Claude.’

He winks, but his eyes are weary.

‘No worries. I can get to him faster than you. I should be able to keep him amused ‘til you can talk, or slap, some sense into him.’ He takes off with a wave, Failnaught glowing in his grip.

She spots Ingrid nearby, and motions her to come closer.

‘Don’t engage any more Alliance soldiers. Tell the others.’ She nods and flies east. Byleth does a rough headcount, and sees that all of her students are accounted for. She watches Claude in the distance. With most of the Imperial forces defeated, he seems to have commanded his own men to withdraw. He’s dancing around Dimitri, darting in circles above him as he dodges each increasingly agitated blow. She thanks the stars- or maybe the Goddess- for sending him here, and then she draws breath and turns around, when she hears the clinking of armour approaching from behind.

‘Hello, my teacher.’

Her voice is measured, but not unkind, not unlike how she used to address her. She looked much taller from a distance; she’s as tiny as ever now that she stands before her, made to look smaller again against the vast expanse of the scorched field. They hold eye contact for a long time.

‘As I said before, the next time we met would be the last. You path has to end here, Professor.’ 

Her voice is steely, and yet Byleth finds little conviction behind her words. She slowly draws her weapon, allowing Byleth ample time to prepare herself. They cross blades, but Edelgard isn’t striking to kill, isn’t even using half of the force that Byleth knows her to be capable of. She follows suit, the two of them now locked in a pointless, dreadful dance. She ignores the voice in her head, the voice that tells her to kill Edelgard where she stands. She’ll keep blocking her advances until one of them forfeits. Or maybe they’ll stay like this forever, chasing each other in circles, waltzing to this horrible, fantastical aria for all eternity. 

Dimitri’s arrival halts their mock battle. He’s fuming, chest heaving and a look of wild anger in his eyes. He goes to speak to Edelgard, his mouth drawn in a twisted smile, but then Hubert appears by her side, and they disappear into thin air.

‘That _ bitch! _’ He roars. He directs his stare at Byleth now, and he looks absolutely feral. He closes the distance between them in one long stride, feet stomping audibly on the dry earth. She’s scared, but she won’t show it. 

‘Why didn’t you call for me?! Why did you let her get away?’ 

Byleth says nothing. How could she have called for him, at such a distance? Ridiculous questions like that warrant no answer. Rodrigue approaches them, looking distressed. He gets as close as he can while still on horseback, seemingly trying to break them up. 

‘Your Highness, I’m sorry, but we have to move. Now. Imperial reinforcements are fast approaching.’

Dimitri ignores him, continuing his standoff that Byleth wants no part in. She glances at the older man, who’s brow is knotted in a frown. She’s not sure either of them will be able to convince him to leave.

‘We have to go.’ She can’t bring herself to look at him anymore. 

‘You-’

Dimitri’s sentence is interrupted by a sharp cry of pain. Hot panic courses through her body, and Dimitri he falls to his knees, revealing a very young and very sad looking girl clutching a dagger standing behind him. She runs to stop her, and blood is pooling from Dimitri’s right leg. He sits in silence, eyes closed, as though attending a prayer service. Everything is happening too fast, and now the girl is taking aim at his neck, and Byleth is raising her own knife. But she’s too slow, still going at her normal pace when the rest of the world is moving at double speed, and Dimitri is going to die.

She watches in confound horror as Rodrigue dies in his place. 

‘Now-’ he manages to tell her, as blood pools in his mouth, and she raises her blade against the girl, killing her in one swift movement. She calls for her brother as she dies. Dimitri is screaming, and Rodrigue is saying something to him, but she can’t hear it for the blood rushing in her ears, for the sight of the girl’s corpse on the ground. Images from the battle that has just passed come flooding back to her, images she hadn’t had time to process yet, of former students lying dead in her wake. Death had never phased her much, before. Then again, she had never killed a child, or a friend, or the_ father _ of one of her friends. She has managed to do all three in less time than it takes for the sun to rise and set again. 

She waits for Dimitri, but he doesn’t even seem to know she’s there. He’s still kneeling in place, muttering to himself frantically. She wants to reach for him, to put a hand on his shoulder, but she’s scared of how he’ll react. She ends up leaving him where he lies, and passes Dedue without looking him in the eye as she goes to find Felix. 

\--

Their retreat back to Mydrinn is silent. Byleth doesn’t know where Felix is, doesn’t dare to turn around to search the crowd for his face. She keeps her distance from Dimitri, as does everyone. Annette, Mercedes and Ashe follow close behind her, but they don’t speak to her. No one does. Byleth had not known what loneliness felt like, until now.

She misses her dad. Her little world seems so much bigger and scarier now that he’s not guiding her. She misses Edelgard, too. There was scarcely anyone who had made her feel more understood, more at home. But even moreso, she misses Dimitri. She imagines, briefly, the boy she knew before walking by her side. She thinks of his kindness, the smile that would make any day a little bit brighter. She has failed all of them. Jeralt is dead, and she was powerless to stop it. Edelgard is lost to her, and Dimitri is a ghost. And Sothis has left her, too. She longs to turn the hands of time all the way back, to force a stop to this senseless war. She wishes for it, envisions the girl in her mind, wills her to take pity on her and pull her out of this mess so that she may start it all anew- but nothing happens. She’s still marching forwards through the dreary fog. 


	8. Chapter 8

Almost a week has passed, and they have arrived back at the monastery. It’s late evening, and it’s raining. Most of Byleth’s sadness has turned to numbness, and she coasts through the days in a haze, not unlike a ghost herself. She hasn’t seen Dimitri since they touched base here, though others have reported sightings, so no search party has been sent out yet. The world seems to have come to a momentary standstill, as each faction reassembles itself after Gronder, all sides dealing with severe losses. She worries often, but she feels powerless all the same.

She spots Dimitri then, emerging from the stables. He doesn’t notice her presence at all. He looks less angry, and more heartbroken. She intercepts his path so that he’s forced to at least look at her.

‘What do you want?’ He asks, and his voice is drained of the fury that was once there.

‘Where are you going?’

‘It doesn’t concern you.’

‘Yes, it does. You can’t go to Enbarr alone, Dimitri.’

He sighs.

‘Just get out of my way.  _ Now _ .’

‘Stop this. You have to stop.’ She winces- her words are always so weak, so powerless. He’ll never listen to her.

‘Why?’ He asks.

‘Why- what?’

‘Why do you _ care _ ?’ He asks, and she can tell it’s a genuine question, not a retort, by the anguish in his voice. She recoils. Why  _ does _ she care? About this boy, this man, who, before she disappeared, was not much more than a friendly acquaintance to her? Why has she insisted on staying with him, even when he screams at her to leave him alone?   


‘Because… when we first met, and when my dad died...you were so kind to me.’

It’s a simple reason, but it’s the truth. He was gentle, and patient, and tried his best to make her smile, when Edelgard could hardly look her in the eye. Those memories are small, and probably insignificant, but that’s all she has now. By some strange twist of faith, he’s all she has.   


‘I don’t understand you. She killed your father, yet you’ve forgiven her. If you can forgive something like that-’

‘I haven’t forgiven her.’ She cuts him off before he can finish, but she’s not quite sure whether that’s the truth, or a lie. She still bleeds from that wound, from Edelgard’s betrayal, yet she cannot bring herself to hate her. She sometimes wishes her feelings and thoughts were as linear as Dimitri’s seem to be.

‘That’s why I’m still here. And...because I want to help you.’

He’s quiet.

‘You’re too late.’

This is overwhelming. She feels hot tears stinging her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she has to keep pushing. 

‘It’s not. You have to listen to what Rodrigue told you. That’s what they would want for you.’

No response. There’s no spirit left in him, and it terrifies her.

‘You’re loved, Dimitri. You’ve done more good than bad in this life. You deserve to be happy.’

There’s no use in attempting this method anymore. They’ve reached the point of no return. She has to try something else.

‘Would you do me a favour?’ 

She holds out her hand for him, and he looks at her fearfully, like a skittish stray dog eyeing a meal. When he doesn’t take it, he simply laces her fingers between his anyway- he doesn’t pull away. As far as she’s concerned, that’s as good as a yes.   



	9. Chapter 9

‘Come on. You’ll feel better.’

Byleth’s hand is tiny in his own, and her strength impressive as he trails behind her. She drags him through the wooden doors of the bathhouse; he has to duck to keep from hitting his head on the low arch of the doorway. He stares at the floor, waiting for Byleth to leave. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to confront the state that his body is in right now. The thought alone is enough to make his skin crawl.   


‘I’ll turn around,’ says Byleth, expectantly, but he has neither the wish nor the energy to comply. He stands staring at her back for a few moments, but retracts his gaze when she faces him again.

‘I can help you, if you want.’ She waits for his response, but he can’t even look her in the eye. 

_ No,  _ he thinks, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t know why. His mind is so overrun that his thoughts and impulses have been worn down to a murky fog. He can hardly stand- making sense of his feelings right now seems an impossible feat. Clearly taking his silence as confirmation, she unhooks his cloak and eases it down and off his shoulders. He swallows and closes his eyes.   


He keeps them shut as she works, though he finds himself quivering more violently with each layer that’s removed. She’s everywhere, her deft hands flitting across his chest and legs as she removes his breastplate and cuisses, but they don’t linger for any longer than strictly necessary. The air is cold against his bare skin now, and he’s raw, like someone has taken a knife to his centre and cut him wide open. Finally, she reaches for his eyepatch, and he feels her thumb brush lightly against the bruised skin where his left eye once was. She leads him forward, towards the wooden tub, and he opens his good eye again long enough to step in. He draws his knees to his chest, and waits.   


‘Ready?’ She asks, from beside him. He says nothing, and then feels hot water being dumped rather unceremoniously over his head. The sudden change in temperature makes his skin prick, and he hisses. She keeps going, pouring five more buckets over him, and then smoothing his hair out of his face once she’s satisfied that he’s wet enough.   


He looks down at the water surrounding him. It’s a dense, muddy brown colour. The longer he stares, the more disgusted he feels with himself. He’s filthy, has been filthy for months. Byleth’s hands are working through his hair with a bar of soap, but her slim fingers keep getting caught in knots. Still, she diligently untangles each one, massaging his scalp as she goes. No one has touched him like this since his parents died. The castle was a lonely place, after Duscur, when he only had Dedue for company. No father to pull him into a tight hug and read him bedtime stories, and no step-mother to stroke his cheek and tell him that she loved him. But whenever Rodrigue would visit the castle, he would tousle his hair affectionately. He winces as the scene from earlier unfolds in front of him again, though his mind and body alike are too tired to send another wave of sadness over him.

‘Am I being too rough?’ Byleth asks, untangling her hand from a clump of his hair when she noticed his pained expression.

_ Not at all,  _ he thinks, but he only manages to shake his head. She takes another bucket of water and pours it over his head, washing the suds away. The water surrounding him becomes less opaque in colour with every bucket that she adds. Byleth taps his shoulders. 

‘Relax.’

Water pours over him again; lukewarm, this time. She creates a lather on her hands and smooths them over his shoulder blades, massaging his muscles. They’re tense enough that it takes about twenty minutes for her to make any progress in loosening them. The sensation of her touch is so enjoyable that it makes his head and neck tingle. He finds himself leaning into her, the heat of her skin prolonging the warmth that’s quickly fading from the water.

She eventually pulls away, leaving him freezing. 

‘Do you want me to leave you alone now?’

He doesn’t know what he wants. If he’s left to his own devices, he fears he’ll never find the strength to even leave the bathhouse. But with her around, he can’t think straight at all.

‘I’ll wait for you outside. You should finish up quickly so you don't get cold again.’ She hands him the bar of soap, stands and pulls her coat back on, leaving him by himself in the large bathing quarters.   


He doesn’t know what to do now. His whole body feels like an open wound, tender and exposed. Images come back to him, of Rodrigue, of Dedue, of Byleth. They’re clear in his mind, unobscured by the fog that has hung over him for the past few years. At least he feels a little less cold. 


	10. Chapter 10

Every time Byleth re-enters the Kingdom, she’s awed anew by just how cold it is. A thick coat of snow has blanketed the city, and while it is a hazard in battle, it’s also quite beautiful. They’ve just cleared up a squirmish on the outskirts of one of the lesser cities, and now she finds herself on the doorstep of a stately manor. Curiosity had gotten the better of Dorothea and Ingrid, as the son of the noble family at the centre of the conflict had, at some point, attempted to court both of them. Byleth, in her own curiosity, has followed them.

The upholstery, tapestries and carpets inside the house are all woven with exquisite shades of gold, purple and red. She walks into what must the master bedroom, and takes in the sight of the canopy bed with its heavy crimson curtains in the centre of the room. She leafs through documents laid pristinely on the desk. Most of the names on the letters are distinctly Adrestian sounding. _ That would explain the furniture, _ she thinks. The Kingdom is a frigid, destitute place, with poor soil and comparatively little trade. Most Faerghus nobles could not afford the kind of decadent lifestyle on display here. The wealthiest amongst the houses are descendents of the feudal lords who were planted here by the Empire when the Kingdom first showed signs of wanting to break off.

She spots a large jewelry box, upholstered with plush velvet. She considers it for a few movements before succumbing to curiosity and unlatching the golden hinge. It’s a veritable treasure trove, rare gems in deep blue and violet, and brilliant diamonds, their reflection dappling her face with bright white light. Her fingers fall over a ring with a large black stone. She examines it briefly, and then pockets it. It’s no use to the dead- and it would suit Dorothea.

She steps back and turns out into the corridor. Something catches her eye before she can ascend the stairs. A full length portrait, hanging just before the landing. The new Emperor of Adrestia, in her suit of red armor and horned crown that have inspired equal parts fear and awe in every corner across the continent.

She looks so much taller in this portrait, and her lilac eyes feel cold as they bare into her from the frame. Her hands are clasped in front of her, and her chin is held high. Her frame is small, but her mantle and epaulettes make her shoulders appear far wider. She’s rigid, and imposing. The artist hadn’t quite captured the dolly-ness of her face though, how small and round and pretty it is. She wonders whether that was an artistic blunder, or an express order from the Emperor herself. She hears creaking coming from the stairwell.

‘Professor?’

Dimitri is at the top of the stairs, holding the ballister, slightly hunched over. She looks at him, and then back to the portrait, guiding him with her eyes. He follows, curiosity written on his face. She watches him as he examines it, the way his Adam’s apple moves when he swallows. His chest is puffed slightly as he holds his breath. She checks his hands- his fists aren’t clenched. They’re open, and close enough to her own that she can feel his body heat. After a few moments, he sighs, his body language deflating, and turns to Byleth.

‘If I ask her to meet with us, do you think she’ll come?’

Those words, so sudden and unexpected, knock the wind from her lungs. He’s come back around to old, sweet self in the past few weeks, though she never could have expected such a proposition. She’d hoped for it, though, as soon as she saw that smile back on his face. 

She feels her mood shifting, a honey-like happiness warming her up from the inside out, slow and sweet, so that she doesn’t even noticing the way the icy air has numbed her fingertips. It takes her a moment to regain her breath, so that she can answer him. 

‘I think she would come.’

\--

They sit by the fire long after the others have retired to their tents, shoulders pressed close together. Dimitri is quiet, hunched over with his chin resting in both hands. His gaze is pensive, if not a little melancholy, as he stares at the flames. Byleth supposes that now would be an apt time to divulge her only secret to him.

‘I met with her. A few months ago.’ She doesn’t need to specify which ‘her’ she’s referring to. He tilts his head to look at her.

‘Really?’ His voice sounds strained, and she can’t place the emotion it carries.

‘Yes. Not long after you and I reunited. It was at Garreg Mach.’

He’s quiet for a few moments.

‘Was that...the night all of the guards were missing?’ 

She nods. He sits back now, craning his head back a little, enough to look at the sky. It’s a starry night. 

‘At the time, I did suspect something like that...what transpired between you two?’

She shifts.

‘We just...had a discussion. About everything that happened. About my father.’ She omits the part about kissing her. She decides to let that remain a secret. 

‘There wasn’t a lot that was said, in truth. It was...nice, though. To see her again.’ Each word from her mouth feels like treading on a glass ceiling, and she tries to step lightly enough to stop the entire thing from shattering.

He lets out a small, breathy laugh.

‘You two never were much for chatting.’ Byleth nods. Dimitri reaches for a bundle of kindle, and throws it onto the now-dwindling fire. The flames cast his face in a brilliant orange as they come to life again.

‘I suppose she’s dear to you as well.’

She stares at her hands, crossed in her lap. 

‘Yes.’ She takes a long pause, her toes curling inwards inside her boots with discomfort. Her stomach knots as the words form on her tongue.

‘She is dear to me.’ It had taken almost five and a half years to admit that fact aloud. The confirmation that Dimitri feels the same as her, in some sense, is relief enough to allow herself to continue.

She turns her focus to the crackling of the fire, the smell of the wood burning, the heat on her cheeks and nose. There’s more that she wants to tell him, things that she wishes Edelgard would have told him in her stead. Things that might have stopped this war before it began. She takes a breath.

‘I think...there are some things that you don’t know about her.’

‘Oh?’

‘Do you remember Lysithea?’ Byleth scarcely knows where this train of thought is heading herself- it’s not surprising that Dimitri looks a little confused too.

‘Lysithea… the Ordelia girl, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes. The one who turned coat and joined the Empire. I don’t know how well you remember the rumours about her, but…’

‘I do remember. That she possessed two crests.’

‘Well, they were true. When the Empire took control of her family’s territory, they used her to conduct some kind of blood experiments. The end result was her having two crests. But it places massive strain on her body. Her hair even changed colour.’

She feels Dimitri’s entire body tensing beside her.

‘That the Empire is capable of such atrocities… I can never-’

She cuts him off before he can get carried away.

‘Think for a moment, Dimitri. Was Edelgard’s hair always white, even when you first met her?’

He freezes, and then his good eye grows wide in shock.

‘You- you don’t mean to say…’

‘They did the same to her. She told me about it. She was held captive for years, as a child. All of her siblings died during those same experiments. But the result is that she bears two crests.’ 

He’s quiet.

‘I think it all must have started once she returned from the Kingdom.’

He runs his hand through his hair, and then squeezes his good eye shut. He stays like that for a while.

‘So- El, all this time, she was-’ he stammers. She should have known this would distress him. She curses herself for not at least giving him some forewarning.

‘I know it’s hard to think about. But that’s why she’s so opposed to the teachings of Seiros, because of how much value Rhea places in the crest system.’

‘Gods…’

‘Sorry for springing this on you so suddenly.’

‘I was so- she- What have I done? I She treated me so...coldly, and she seemed to have more or less forgotten about me, but I didn’t for a _ second _ think that it could be because she went through something as awful, as _ inhumane _as that. And I let her, walk this path on her own, because I didn’t-’

His breaths are coming quickly, and he’s stammering. She can tell he’s not okay, but she doesn’t know how to comfort him.

‘There was no way you could have known about it.’ She offers weakly, anxiety rising in her chest again.

She notices a cold by her shoulder that wasn’t there before. Dimitri has pulled away from her side, and is leaning so far left that his back is almost facing her. She can see it happening, him closing in on himself, threatening to snap under his own weight. She won’t let that happen again. Byleth reaches over him, scaling the mountain that is his shoulders under all that fur, and grasps her hand over his. He turns to look at her, startled, and withdraws slightly when he realizes how close her cheek is to his own. She forces her fingers between his, and closes her palm over them. They stay like that for a few moments. Eventually, Dimitri squeezes back into her grasp. It hurts a little, in actuality, but she doesn’t move. Her fingers can endure a little bit of crushing.

He hasn’t spoken, but that gesture seems to have pulled him back from the brink. He sighs, and moves to sit beside her again, still holding her hand. She readjusts herself accordingly, and they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder again. It must be getting into the early hours of the morning. Exhaustion is seeping through her body, starting in her aching legs and making its way up to her jaw, stiff from being clenched.

‘I just wish I’d had the chance to talk to her.’ He says, finally.

‘Dimitri, I mean no disrespect, but I promise you that it wouldn’t have changed a thing. There’s nothing that you, I, or anyone could have said to change her mind. This is what she believes she was born to do.’

His eye narrows in concentration as he thinks.

‘You always seem to know what to say, Professor.’

Byleth just smiles. Dimitri continues, after a pause.

‘That...clarifies a lot of things. My memories of her are tied to the best part of my life, before I lost everything. And her memories of me are linked to the worst part of hers. That... must be why there’s such a disconnect between us. It’s no wonder that she seems to have forgotten about our time together, and that’s also why I cling to those memories so tightly.’

She leans in further towards him, resting her head fully on his shoulder. She doesn’t know what to say, what she can offer now besides physical comfort. He responds in turn, stroking his thumb over her hand a few times before squeezing it. Dimitri’s voice fills the silence once again.

‘If you truly believe she will answer, then I will call out for her.’

Byleth smiles, that same happiness and pride that she felt earlier blossoming in her chest, almost strong enough to dull out the strain on her body.

‘In truth, there is little that would make me happier than a world where she and I could stand side by side. It’s… unrealistic, impossible, even. But I feel I have to try.’

‘That you would try makes me very happy.’ 

That simple admission has lifted the weight of the world off her shoulders. The bliss has made her sleepy, and a yawn makes its way up her throat. He smiles, leaning into her.

‘I suppose we should turn in for the night.’ 


	11. Chapter 11

‘I have news, Your Majesty. From Derdriu.’

Edelgard stands to attention in the throne room as Hubert approaches. The dark mood that her lonely musings had cast over the place dissipates with his arrival. Hubert could hardly be described as a ray of sunshine by anybody else, but in some ways, that’s precisely what he is to her. Her only confidant, her constant company- even now, when her world threatens to collapse on top of both of them. 

‘Yes, Hubert?’

It’s late in the day. It’s always around this time that her dress and armour begin to feel far too heavy on her person. Breathing becomes a little more arduous under the strain of her corset, pulled as tight as can be. 

‘The Kingdom came to the aid of the Alliance, and together they toppled our forces. Lord Arundel is counted amongst the casualties.’

He always sounds somewhat sarcastic, but he delivers the last sentence with acerbic disbelief. 

‘I can tell you have reason to doubt that assessment.’

‘Forgive me, Your Majesty, but how could we _ not _doubt it?’

She sighs. This is a sore spot. If what little she and Hubert have been able to decipher about him is true, it’s a possibility that even the combined power of Dimitri, Claude _ and _ Byleth was not enough to kill him. And yet, even if they have managed to, that’s surely not the end, either. Hubert seems to read her mind, responding to her thoughts without her having to voice them.

‘Even if they did succeed in killing him, I highly doubt that will be enough to stop them. There are countless others in his command. I have seen as much with my own eyes.’

She casts her gaze downwards, trying to will away the image of them that comes to her when she tries to sleep, of those dark, faceless mages towering over her.

‘This is a double edged sword.’ She remarks, quietly. ‘Without my Uncle, they should cooperate fully with us, for the time being.’ She glances at Hubert, and continues.

‘However, this all brings to mind… that if we _ are _ defeated, there will be no one there to stop them.’ She laughs when she sees Hubert’s severe expression.

‘Don’t make such a dire face, Hubert. I’m not going to lose. But it would be irreprensible if our arrogance allowed them to achieve their goal.’ She pauses. 

‘And I know you agree with me. You’ve found their base, haven’t you? Surely right now is not the time to be conducting such time-consuming research, with the Kingdom on our doorstep.’

‘And just how, Your Majesty, did you find out about that?’

‘Lindhart told me. Oh, don’t look so scandalized. Someone has to be my informant, when you insist on doing everything behind my back.’

He grumbles something that she doesn’t quite catch, but concedes quickly.

‘Fine. I will divulge to you all that I know. But first, there is one other piece of information that you must hear.’

‘Go on.’

‘A messenger arrived today. From Fhirdiad. The King has requested an audience with you.’

It takes a moment for her to realize who that title belongs to. It sounds so foreign, even now.

‘The King- Dimitri?’

‘Precisely.’

‘When exactly does he intend to hold this audience?’

Hubert, with a little bit of unintentional theatrical flare, pulls the letter in question out of his blazer pocket, clears his throat, and reads from it.

_ ‘‘At your nearest convenience.’’ _He imitates a Fhirdiad lilt as he speaks, and Edelgard can’t tell if he’s trying to be funny or not.

‘At my nearest convenience...good grief. This is war, not a dinner invitation.’

She sighs, and thinks. 

‘Should we tell them?’

‘I believe we should. However, you need not concern yourself with how the information reaches them. I shall make the necessary arrangements. There is no_ need _ to meet with them.’

He pauses, searching her eyes for a reaction. She keeps her mouth pulled in a tight, neutral line. 

‘However, if you _ wish _ to do so, then I shall accompany you, and ensure that no harm befalls you.’

She takes a moment’s pause. The sun is starting to set. The huge stained glass windows on all four walls are casting a wash of royal blue over the red and gold of the throne room, and the diamonds on the elaborate chandelier above them glint proudly in their new colour. She remembers the last time they saw each other. Byleth looked entirely different- she doesn’t wear those black clothes anymore, not even to battle. She’s a Goddess now, a holy vassal of Faerghus, all shimmering ivory and gold and violet. Byleth’s reverent beauty must have possessed her, that day. She had sworn that she wouldn’t let it happen again. Dimitri, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. That sense of gentleness and chivalry that made him seem so much like a dashing squire from a silly romance novel was completely gone. Had it not been for the raggedy cobalt flag he wore over his shoulders, and that particular shade of Faerghus blond that makes up his colouring, she would almost have taken him for one of her own generals.

She knows she shouldn’t, but she wants to see them again. Call it curiosity.

‘We will meet them if the opportunity arises. You may relay that message to them. We can sort out the finer details at a later date.’

‘Are you sure that this is wise?’ Hubert asks, doubt written all over his face. Maybe it is unwise. Certainly, it’s not the first decision she’s made lately that Hubert has deemed so. She can’t deny that her reasonings for accepting his proposition aren’t largely sentimental, either, and Hubert seems to have picked up on that. Still, a brief meeting is hardly going to put her plan in any danger, not when she knows that Hubert will go to all lengths to ensure her safety.

‘I don’t see what harm can come of it.’

He says nothing for a moment, and then bows at the waist.

‘Very well. I will make the appropriate arrangements. Good evening, Your Majesty.’

‘Thank you, Hubert.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just noticed that the first few chapters had formatting issues. sorry about that, trying to fix it now ;o;


	12. Chapter 12

Finally, a moment of repose. Dimitri is sitting in Byleth’s bedroom, two cheap chairs and a rickety desk hauled into the centre to fashion an afternoon tea set up. Supplies had arrived, and much to everyone’s delight, Mercedes had managed to get her hands on some ingredients. Byleth must have snatched a few scones, and then decided to invite Dimitri to join her. He’s touched by the gesture, though it certainly feels a little intimate, sharing her space like this. His eyes are drawn towards her bed. The duvet is straightened fairly neatly, but the pillows haven’t been fluffed. He feels something peculiar twinge in his stomach at the sight. She even spends a few moments arranging the table and cutlery, draping a moth-eaten tablecloth over the desk. It’s nothing fancy, but compared to the rations they’ve been living off for the past few months, it feels like a spread.  


‘These are great.’ Dimitri remarks, slathering jam and clotted cream onto his scone. The texture of cream is distinctive, something that he remembers from his childhood. Those are his favourite kinds of food. 

‘They look good. What kind of jam is that?’ Byleth asks. Dimitri, feeling a little panicked, glances at the jar. It’s red. 

‘It’s...sweet. It’s strawberry.’ 

He’s taking an approximate guess. It’s not that he’s ashamed of his ageusia- it’s just something he prefers not to talk about. It makes him happy, when the others beam with pride after he compliments their food, even if his compliments are meaningless. Happiness is in short supply these days, and he’s no longer in the business of taking even the simplest of joys away from them.

‘Can you pass me some?’ Byleth asks. He obliges, and she hurriedly heaps toppings onto her own scone before taking half of the pastry in her mouth with a single, large bite. Her manner of eating is truly something to behold. Her eyes widen a little in surprise when she bites into it. 

‘Is everything alright?’ Dimitri asks, trying his best not to wince. It seems his estimation was off the mark. 

‘Oh, yeah, it’s good… It’s just- quite sour, actually. That tastes like lingonberry jam to me.’

Well. This is embarrassing.

‘Oh, right. I’m sorry.’

‘There’s no need to apologize, Dimitri. It’s still delicious.’ She smiles at him, though he can tell she’s confused. He rearranges his hands in his lap. He supposes he has to explain.

‘Actually, Professor, I lost my sense of taste some nine years ago.’

Byleth’s eyes widen. 

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. I can...scarcely taste anything these days, to be honest.’ 

Byleth is quiet, and then she smiles again. There’s that feeling, that twinging in his chest.

‘And yet you compliment everyone’s cooking just the same.’

Dimitri falters.

‘Do you… think that’s disingenuous?’ 

She looks him in the eye.

‘Not at all. I find it to be very sweet of you, in fact.’ 

He can feel his ears heating up at that, and suddenly he’s back in the Academy, watching her train, planning out how he’ll approach her in his head, over and over and over again. He thought his infatuation would have gone away by now, with all that has come to pass, but it seems to be back in full force. He falls easily, he knows that. But now he’s learning that his heart is as stubborn as it is tender. He’s sure his face is bright red right now- he prays she doesn’t notice.

‘I’m...glad to hear that.’

There’s a knock on the door, and Dimitri is knocked out of his daydream. A messenger enters.

‘Pardon the intrusion. We have received word from Enbarr.’  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Edelgard observes them from a distance before approaching them. It’s only now that she realizes how tall Dimitri has grown. He stands close to Byleth, both of them wearing white now, a united front. It’s not hard to see how the continent has adopted them as their saviours- they certainly look the part. She often wonders how she and him will be remembered, when all has come to pass. She can only hope that in time, people will understand what they fail to understand now.  


She exhales and closes her eyes to centre herself. It’s the same feeling as the time she secretly met with Byleth at the monastery. Anxiety, regret, excitement and sadness all swirl inside her at once, leaving her feeling as though she’s made of glass. Hubert turns to her.

‘Are you well, Your Majesty?’

‘Yes. We should proceed.’

He looks at her, eyes squinted in thought, and she knows exactly what he’s thinking. They make their approach, and she watches how Dimitri tenses up as she approaches.  


‘It’s been a long time, Professor. And hello to you too, Dimitri.’

‘Hello, Edelgard.’ Byleth smiles with a little wave, that same easy greeting that she used to love, and Edelgard feels her chest grow tight. This was a bad idea. 

‘Edelgard. I wasn’t… fully expecting you to show up.’ Says Dimitri, sounding taken aback. 

‘Call it a whim. What did you want to talk about?’

‘Well, there’s something I want to say to you.’ He pauses and clears his throat, shifting in spot. Edelgard tries to brace herself.

‘Firstly, I owe you an apology. I wrongfully accused you of being involved in what happened in Duscur. I still don’t fully know what happened that day, or to what extent the Empire and your Uncle were involved, but common sense alone tells me that there’s no way you were directly involved. So, I am sorry for that.’

He speaks without so much as a pause, as though he may have rehearsed it beforehand. Her eyes grow wide in disbelief. Dimitri, the one who used to talk back to the voices in his head and chase after her with such intense bloodlust, all in the name of misplaced revenge, has somehow managed to free himself of the shackles that her Uncle used to keep him imprisoned for all these years. It’s beyond astonishing. She glances at Byleth, and she’s smiling at him, pride written all over her face. What on earth is there for her to say, at this point? She retreats behind her mask again. They can’t know how much this scares her.  


‘I...accept your apology, Dimitri. But this seems highly insignificant, given the current circumstances.’

‘I suppose it is. I just...felt that I needed to say it.’ His voice sounds impossibly small for someone of his stature.

‘You are wasting Her Majesty’s time.’ Says Hubert, voice dripping with acid. She catches Byleth shooting him an angry look.

‘Relax, Hubert.’ She says, and Hubert mutters inaudibly under his breath. Dimitri continues.

‘I’ve learned a lot more about you, from the Professor. About what you’ve been through. And I understand now, Edelgard. I know why you want your justice. And you deserve it, too. If it were possible, I’d love nothing more than to help you find it. But there’s no justice in the method you’ve taken. You’ve crushed far too many people underfoot.’

She closes her eyes. In truth, that anyone could perceive her actions in this way is upsetting. She glances at Byleth, and her chest pangs.

_ Is this how you see me too?  _

She wills that question away with a sigh.  


‘It’s disappointing that you think me selfish enough to undertake all of this in the name of merely gaining revenge for myself. If that’s what you truly believe, then it’s clear that we can never understand each other, and I have nothing more to say to you.’

‘...Perhaps.’ comes his reluctant reply. This has already gone on far too long.

‘Goodbye, Dimitri.’

‘Wait, El.’ He calls, before she even has the chance to turn. That name on his tongue makes her shoulders tense.

‘This is for you.’ 

He hands her something. A dagger, encased in an intricately decorated sheath. The hilt is made of smooth, solid oak, stained a glossy black. Edelgard never put much stock in the aesthetic value of a weapon, but even she can admit that this one is quite beautiful. She looks at him, and something shifts in the din of her memory. 

‘I remember now… you gave me a dagger, all those years ago.’

He smiles, and looks just the same as the boy she knew back then. 

‘I’m still sorry for that. I should have given you something that would have made you happier.’

‘Well, at the time I was quite flustered by such a dangerous gift…’ She laughs a little at the absurdity of it. 

‘That was the last we saw of each other, wasn’t it? I never got to give you a proper response.’

He nods.

‘It’s still a still a sweet memory, just...with a bitter end.’ He says, and they both grow quiet. She feels Hubert’s eyes on her now, frowning at her. She snaps herself out of her reverie.

‘It will do not good to reminisce any further. The girl you knew back then is dead.’

Dimitri frowns too, and looks as though he’s about to say something, but Byleth catches his eye, and he remains quiet. She sighs. Hubert will just have to wait.

‘But… while we’re here, I’ll tell you now what I never got the chance to, then.’ 

Both Dimitri and Byleth look up at her, eyes wide, like a pair of children. She feels a small smile growing on her lips, in spite of herself.

‘Thank you. My dear, forgotten friend. Because of you, I never lost my heart.’


	14. Chapter 14

They should be dead by now. She’s failing. That can’t happen. She lets off a searing ball of fire from her hand. It hits someone, and the force behind it sends them flying across the palace floor like a ragdoll. She can’t tell who it is. There’s still too many of them, getting closer and closer, surrounding her like ghouls. They all should be dead by now. She won’t let them live. The whites of their eyes, the white of their teeth, bared at her. It’s terrifying.  


The longer the fight wears on, the more horrific it becomes. 

_ You hate them. _

There’s two, three, four voices in her head now, all chanting the same dreadful song. Her own is still there too, somewhere, but it’s quiet.

_ You hate him. Your teacher, your true love. He stole her from you. He stole everything from you. You’re jealous. Kill him. You were born to kill each other. Only one of you two can exist. It has to be you.  _

_ You hate her. Your first friend, your first love. She took him from you. She betrayed you, chose him over you. See how they look at each other. She cannot continue to exist. Kill her. Kill her. Kill them. _

‘That’s not…’

The words leave her mouth not as a plea, but a roar. She can see them now. It’s just the two of them. Dimitri is steely teeth, tearing into her sinewy armour over and over. Then there’s Byleth. That sword is powerful, terrible. A pain unlike anything she has felt before rips through her where she strikes her. Still, her movements are hesitant, and sparse. The moments between each of her attacks stretch out into what feels like hours, a dreadful anticipation tingling through her limbs as she waits. Why won’t she strike her? She wishes she could see her properly, see what expression her face carries. Her body feels heavy, and her heart- if she still has one- does too.

‘Facing you, I grow weak…’

She hears something, for the first time since transforming, her mangled voice ringing in her ears as her inner thoughts are involuntarily given voice. It hurts, how Byleth withdraws her sword from her side upon hearing her words. She doesn’t strike her again. Edelgard knows she has lost. Dimitri attacks her once more, a tentative blow, forceful but not enough to kill, and she falls to the ground, her shell evaporating into dust.

She kneels, trying to will away the nausea that has set in deep in her stomach. The unimaginable has occurred, and her mind is too foggy to fully process it. 

‘El.’

Dimitri says, and against her better judgement, she looks up to meet his gaze. He’s smiling, but every muscle in his body is tense. He lets out a small, hopeful noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh when their eyes meet.  


Her vision might be blurry, but she sees them as clear as day in her mind’s eye, Fhirdiad in flames behind them as they lay dead at the feet of her Uncle, of Thales. He doesn’t know, doesn’t understand how the danger that’s lying in waiting for them. She knows she should believe in the soundness of Hubert’s abilities, should trust that his message has already reached them, and that all will be well. But it scares her still. Then she opens her eyes, and there’s Byleth, frowning, and Edelgard gets the sense that she knows exactly what she is thinking. She’s always felt that they speak the same strange language.  


The minutes seem to stretch into hours, and she has no idea how long they’ve been stuck in this standoff for. Her fingers ghost over the scabbard on her hip. Dimitri tenses, gripping Areadbhar tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. She looks upwards; his jaw is tense, and his eyes ares stricken through with fear and pain. It’s too late now- she hesitated too long. She drops her head, lower this time, and closes her eyes. She listens to the sound of her own shallow breathing, willing him to raise his lance and put an end to this for good. She hears the way his breath catches in his throat, imagines the look of horror on his face. This is torture.

There’s a sudden movement, then, and the sound of heavy fabric and a body dropping to the floor. Her head snaps up in shock, and her breath leaves her lungs once more. There’s Byleth, on her knees, very much still alive, face to face with her. Her eyes are as big and sad as ever, and they’re bearing into her with an urgency that makes her flinch. She’s so unbearably beautiful. Byleth reaches for her tentatively, and Edelgard doesn’t pull away. Her hand rests on her cheek, stroking away the black dust that sullies it.

‘El.’ 

She whispers, tilting her chin to try to meet her gaze. It’s Byleth’s turn to use that name against her now. Edelgard can’t look her in those eyes again. She sees right through her; she always has. But it seems she can’t keep her out any longer. She feels a sob building in her throat, and she’s too weak to contain it. It breaks across her chest, making her shoulders shudder. The sound of her choking echoes in the empty expanse of the palace. She hears Byleth sniffling too, but she swallows it and stands, making sure to hold onto one of Edelgard’s hands as she does so.  


Dimitri lifts her in one easy movement, one arm on the small of her back and the other supporting her legs. Her head lolls against his shoulder as he walks, ebbing in and out of consciousness. When she slips away, she sees herself floating down a dark river, arms crossed over her chest, and she thinks she must be dead. 


	15. Chapter 15

It’s hard to tell where she is when she fully awakes. Her body feels dead, won’t move at all no matter how much she commands it to. Her surroundings are quaking, and mostly dark. She thinks it’s noisy, but the sound of the blood rushing in her ears drowns everything else out.

They’re there, too. Byleth is stretched out a few metres across from her, her eyes shut and lips pursed in a peaceful sleep. There’s a little bit of light streaming through a window, and it illuminates her face. She manages to cast her gaze down a few centimetres. Byleth’s legs are stretched over Dimitri’s lap. She can’t muster the strength to look up, but she can see his hands, gently massaging circles into her calves. Black specks cloud her vision, but she keeps her eyes open as long as she can. There’s movement, and Byleth slowly rises. Dimitri says something, she thinks, and then the curtain is drawn. The sudden light sends her reeling, and she squeezes her eyes shut. After some time, she peels one open, and sees them both peering out of the same tiny carriage window, in such close proximity to one another that they’re touching, the soft light making their faces golden. Edelgard falls back asleep.

\--

Her body still insists on dredging her to consciousness. She has no idea how much time has passed, and she has never felt more depleted. Though her senses are still dull, she can make out someone whispering close by. Lying face down on the pillow, she stirs, and the whispering stops. Her emotions flood forward all at once, surging through her mind and body like an angry wave breaking against the shore. She’s disgusted with herself for losing, and disgusted twice-fold for still being alive to see the aftermath. A gentle hand comes to the back of her head then, and smooths over her hair. It’s nearly the same size as her skull, and the bile that had been waiting in her esophagus sears upwards into her throat, burning.

_ ‘Get off me.’ _ She hisses, with all the violence that she can muster. Dimitri withdraws his hand sharply, like someone who had unknowingly touched a too-hot stove. He murmurs an apology, and there’s more whispering, the shuffling of feet, and Edelgard’s heartbeat is murky and sluggish in her chest. She drifts off to sleep again, and not a moment too soon.

\--

When she wakes up for a second time, its with her head resting in Byleth’s lap. The headache that had pierced her skull earlier is no more, and her hair hangs freely over her shoulders. Byleth’s eyes soften when she notices that she has awoken. Her right hand moves to wind a piece of Edelgard’s hair around her finger, her thumb lightly grazing her cheek as she does so. 

‘Good morning.’

Her caress may be tender, but her spoken manner is as deadpan as it ever was. A little burst of relief shoots up Edelgard’s chest, but it’s drowned out the longer she manages to keep herself alert for. She squeezes her eyes shut again, trying to shut out the looming weight of her continued existence for a moment longer. It was pointless- not even the softness of Byleth’s thighs is enough to stop the dreadful imaginings of her future to play across her eyelids.

She groans when she feels her thumb caress her cheek._ Enough of this insipid idling, _ she thinks. _ If I am still alive, it must be for a reason. I will put an end to this, and then I will rest. _

She forces herself to sit up in one sudden motion, but hisses in pain as soon as her back is straightened. She doubles over, grasping her abdomen, unable to stop the stream of hot tears that trail down her cheeks. Her transformation had been a last-ditch effort; neither her mind nor her body had been prepared to deal with the aftermath.

Byleth stands up from the bed and gently but forcefully unfurls Edelgard, pressing her head down to the mountain of pillows. 

‘No moving.’ She chides, in that teacherly tone that she normally reserved only for the more troublesome students in her class. She takes a cloth from the bedside and dampens it with water from the basin that’s sitting on the windowsill. Edelgard winces at the sudden cold when Byleth places it on her forehead.

‘I don’t have time for this.’ Edelgard says, trying her best to sound stern, but her voice is so frail and raspy that it makes her flinch upon hearing it. The green haired woman lifts the cloth briefly to smooth a hand over her forehead, the residual water dampening her scalp. 

‘_ We _ won’t have time for anything if we don’t get some rest.’

Byleth moves to leave.

‘Wait-’

Edelgard tries to sit up once again, and Byleth frowns.

‘El, you need to-’

‘Hubert...did you find… his letter?’ Byleth pauses to give thought to her question.

‘No, I don’t recall finding anything.’

‘Where are my things?’ She’s panting between every word.

‘You mean your weapon? It’s in the Tomb. Don’t worry yourself over it.’

‘My clothes.’ She chokes. Talking is exhausting, and for the first time ever, Byleth doesn’t seem to be following her train of thought. She draws a shaky breath, and continues.

‘Find my dress. In the right pocket. There’s something I need to tell you.’

Byleth simply nods, like she always does, and leaves with a purpose in her stride. She hears hushed whispering outside the door, and another woman enters. Dressed in religious garb, her fair hair is short and her face is pleasantly round and pretty. Edelgard recognizes her, but says nothing. 

‘Close your eyes, please.’ she says, a gentle smile on her lips, and her presence alone seems to be enough to make Edelgard feel drowsy again. 


	16. Chapter 16

Edelgard sits stiffly across from Dimitri in the drawing room. Byleth had refused to simply relay the message for her, and so she faces him for the first time since they fought. 

Rather than positioning himself at the large round table that’s used for conferences, he has assembled a smaller, two-person table, more suitable for a tea party than a war meeting. There is tea, too, a pretty porcelain cup waiting just for her, the hot black liquid quickly turning cold as she refuses to drink it. She withdraws the letter, and smooths it out over the table before him.

‘This should tell you all you need to know.’

Her eyes fall over the familiar cursive handwriting before she can pass it to Dimitri, and her heart stings.

_ If you are reading this letter, that means I have perished. As her Majesty would never surrender to another, I can only assume she has fallen as well. _

She tries her best to conceal a visible wince, but fails. She slides the letter towards him before she can read any more. 

_ Oh Hubert, what would you think of me now? _   


Dimitri is evidently a fast reader. It takes him only a moment to parse the letter. He then unfurls the map that was folded behind it, and spreads it across the table. He squints as he takes it all in, then pauses and stares at his hands. She watches him fiddle with their positioning, twisting one thumb over the other, then curling his fists into a ball tight enough to leave indents from his nails on his palms. His brow is furrowed as he draws breath.

‘This… these are the people behind Duscur, aren’t they? Remire Village, and Jeralt, and even-’ His voice, which was raised in anger, falls softer. 

‘Even what happened to you.’ 

She sighs. 

‘Yes.’

‘I’m so sorry, El.’ 

She clenches her jaw so tight that her temples throb _ . Selfish. Foolish. Irritating.  _ Sometimes she doesn’t understand what his people, what Byleth, sees in him. How can someone who can hardly govern his own emotions govern a nation? 

‘I am not asking for your pity, nor am I telling you this without reason.’ She pauses for breath. 

‘Right. Sorry.’ Dimitri interrupts. She inhales sharply. What an irritating habit he has developed.

‘I’m afraid that time is of the essence. We have no idea what they’re planning, so we have to move quickly.’ She keeps her gaze fixed on the wall behind him. 

‘Yes. Of course. I’ll begin preparations right away. We’ll move out as soon as we can.’ 

Silence.

‘I...I always hated that man.’ 

Edelgard, having nothing more to say, stands to leave, pushing her chair in tight against the table. 

‘Well, if you’ll excuse me.’ 

Dimitri springs up too, shaking the table and scraping his chair against the tiled floor.

‘I can show you to your quarters, if you like. The castle can be quite difficult to navigate at this hour.’ 

She wants to roll her eyes, but more than anything, she wants to leave. Sometimes she doesn’t know whether he’s irritating, or whether she’s just irate. 

‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.’   


She exits the room before he can follow after her, gliding down the empty corridor with as much haste as she can muster. Her left leg is screaming at her to slow down, but her resilience wins out yet again. Out, into the gardens, and then down another narrow hall. There’s no one around. The Kingdom has become a formality-less wasteland, with just a small workforce of staff, almost all of whom retire before nightfall. Most of Dimitri’s advisors address him by his first name, and the girls he has assigned to take care of her chambers do little but change the bed clothes and stare at her when they think she isn’t looking. It’s all just another symptom of his infuriating lack of direction. She shoos the red haired girl standing by her door away with a stern look, and enters her room.   


Her hands shake uncontrollably as she starts to undress herself, an endeavour that can often take up the best part of an hour. Why is she still here? Why, when all those dear to her gave up their lives for her, is she here, grovelling like a dog for scraps? Why can’t she let herself be selfish for once in her life, and throw herself into the ocean to drown? She dreads to think what would become of the Empire in her stead. To see it swallowed up into Faerghus would be a fate worse than death. But can there really be a fate worse than what she’s been dealt now? She steps out of her boots, feeling as though she’s going to collapse.   


Untying her own corset is difficult enough as is, but when her whole body is shaking it’s nigh on impossible. She stumbles to the door, outfit and hair still mostly intact, and opens it. She straightens her back and scans the corridors for the girl she had dismissed earlier, black spots clouding her vision and threatening to take over. 

‘Excuse me.’ She speaks, and cringes at how breathless she sounds. The girl sheepishly emerges from around the corner. Edelgard steps back inside once she has gained her attention- the girl lingers in the doorway, hesitating. Edelgard narrows her eyes into slits.

‘You may enter. Help me remove this. Shut the door first.’   


Her dress has been designed for situations like this- the corset is accessible without unfastening the entire ensemble. Still, the thought of the girl seeing any inch of her bare flesh is only slightly less dread inducing than the thought of a group of them finding her passed out on the floor, half undressed, the next morning. After what feels like an eternity, the girl reaches the last loophole.

‘That’s enough.’   


She casts off the rest of her garments like a snake shedding its skin, collapses on the bed and lies her head against the pillow. Her body feels like it’s burning, even in the freezing cold. It’s at this time of night that memories begin to trickle back to her, if she wills it. Her mind, in an attempt to shield her from the horrors of her childhood, had blurred most of her memories from that time down to a haze. That meant that her memories of Dimitri had been largely obscured too. But when she closes her eyes and concentrates, she can remember a little bit. She remembers holding hands, often, and she remembers dancing. He smiled a lot- and she presumes that she did too. Try as she might, nothing more specific will come to her than that. For years, she kept that dagger without knowing who gave it to her, or what it meant. Her memory is all the more foggy for how little she allows herself to reminisce- that part of her mind is a muscle that is seldom worked.   


She doesn’t hate him. She never did. Not when she watched the bandits that she had ordered to kill him raise an axe over his head, not when he threatened to snap her neck, and not now. In truth, If she had had more time in this world, she would have liked to be close to him. But she’s already dead, and reminiscing like this serves no one. She closes her eyes and wills herself to sleep.   


_ Is it really so wrong to remember? _ Her conscience asks her, when she’s finally on the verge of slumber, but she can formulate no response. The answer to that question will have to wait for another day. 


	17. Chapter 17

Edelgard had obtained a vat of cheap fabric dye from a vendor earlier that week and coated her hair in it, leaving it a severe, unnatural black. She administered it by herself. It dyed her hands and neck too, uneven splodges causing her to look like a victim of some kind of plague. Her hair is now dry, brittle and damaged beyond repair. She takes her dagger, the one Dimitri gave her, from the hilt on her hip, and in one swift movement, slices through the dead follicles, leaving her with an inky-black crop that sits just above her shoulders. She looks at the pile of hair on the ground, and silently mourns for it. The only part of herself that she ever took care of is now as destroyed as the rest of her.

Byleth left a pile of clothing and armour at her door a few mornings ago. It included a long cape with an oversized hood. Now, she takes a dagger to that too, and rips off a section about five inches wide and ten inches long. She uses it to tie around her mouth and nose, a makeshift balaclava. 

She catches a small glimpse of her reflection in the vanity of Byleth’s room, stacked high with books and other rubbish as it is, as she passes through to find her. The fabric that covers her face is unhemmed, roughly cut, with frayed pieces that look like branches of a dying tree. Her skin looks grey against the severe blackness of it all. She never took much pleasure in her appearance, but she at least used to be able to face her reflection when she was tightly enclosed in that red dress. Now, she doesn’t recognize herself. Her eyes seem to glow against the stark darkness of her hair- their distinctive colour is the one thing that she can’t disguise from him.

She barely recognizes Byleth either- a lot has changed about her. For all of her newfound regalia, though, she’s still rough around the edges in that same way she always was. She squats when she picks things up from the ground, her, her blouse is perpetually too low, and she eats like a man. She’s a comfort within the frigid confines of the castle.

‘I need you to promise me one thing.’ 

Edelgard addresses her from the middle of the room, consciously positioning herself in a spot where she can’t observe her own appearance in the mirror. 

If Edelgard had her way, she’d ask her to promise her a lot of things. She’d ask her to promise never to leave her side, for one. No one has ever tempted her to selfishness the way Byleth does. She can feel herself being drawn in by her now, as though she was caught in the undertow of a wave that’s fast approaching the shore.

‘Anything, El.’ Byleth gives her that small, reassuring smile, the same one that she’s been chasing for the past five years. Her chest tightens.

‘After all of this, please leave me alone.’ 

She can tell in the look that they exchange that Byleth knows exactly what Edelgard means by that. Byleth is staring at her, searching her eyes for an answer. She wants to leave, but finds herself unable to do so. Byleth grasps her hands, and draws breath as if she’s going to say something, but nothing comes of it. She runs her thumb over Edelgard’s palm before letting go again. She can feel a lump rising in her throat. She has to leave. She should know better than to get this close to her, knowing the effect that she has on her. Gently and slowly, pulls her hand away, and feels very cold once the contact is broken.

‘Wait-’ Byleth calls before Edelgard can leave. It’s unlike her to hesitate like this. ‘You have to promise me something too.’

Edelgard looks at her but says nothing. Byleth has taken her hand in her own again, and squeezes it tight.

‘You have to promise me that you won’t… go away. Even if we can’t see each other.’

She pauses.

You are so dear to me, El.’

She squeezes Byleth’s hand back, an unspoken vow that she can’t bring herself to verbalize- not when she knows she’s only going to break it. 


	18. Chapter 18

Her cloak is not enough to keep her warm against the bitter wind. The rest of the Kingdom soldiers are draped in fur and wool, but she only has her cotton cape for protection. Her body quivers violently against the cold, but she perseveres as ever. Byleth is leading the charge. It’s a relief to see her without any animal skins on her person, either- Edelgard always found them rather barbaric-looking. She hears the clacking of a horses’ hooves growing closer over the noise of the army, until they’re right beside her. 

‘Sorry I’m late.’ 

She knows that voice, but remains with her back is turned to him, and squeezes her eyes shut. Logically, she knew Dimitri would be coming with them, but her stubborn nature had insisted that he shouldn’t. Being around him stirs up a multitude of emotions that she’d rather not be forced to examine. 

‘You’re not late. You give the orders.’ Says Byleth, standing beside her.

Edelgard intercepts at that, facing him before he can start the call.

‘This is ridiculous. There is no need for both of you to come.’ 

Dimitri frowns. 

‘I thought this is what we had agreed to.’

‘I never agreed to this. This is irresponsible, and unnecessary. Don’t you realize you’re leaving both the Kingdom  _ and  _ the Monastery unattended?’

Dimitri sighs as he mounts his horse, the air fogging. 

‘They’re not unattended, El. It’s better to be over-prepared than under prepared.’

Byleth looks at her.

‘He’s right. There’s no telling how difficult this could end up being. That’s why I decided a small but strong force would be the best approach.’ She pauses, a sadness welling in her eyes that only Edelgard catches.

‘I promise this will be over soon.’

She concedes. That’s all she ever does these days. Dimitri addresses the army, and they begin their advance. She kicks her horse into a canter. Where there used to be a fire burning in her chest, there’s nothing. Only a stinging in her left leg and a hollowness that feels like she’s been emptied out and gutted like a fish.   


\--

They stop off for the night somewhere in Alliance territory. Edelgard has been given a tent to herself- Byleth comes and sits with her after dinner. The two of them are completely silent, only the steady sound of the other woman’s breathing to sooth the din in her mind. Still, her presence is comforting, perhaps because of that easy silence. After some time, Byleth shifts to sit closer to her, their knees touching ever so slightly. The cold that had been nipping at her ears is replaced with a rush of burning heat. The hours wear on, until all the sounds in the camp have ceased, and she feels herself sinking further into her warmth as sleep tugs at her eyes.

‘Do you want me to stay with you tonight?’ 

Comes Byleth’s only question, after hours of silence. Edelgard pauses, and draws breath, that squeezing feeling in her chest coming back in full force as she inhales. She closes her eyes as she exhales, dispelling all the temptation that had been creeping up her spine.

‘No.’

‘Alright. Goodnight, El.’ 

She stands to leave, and Edelgard is very cold again. The image of Byleth and Dimitri sleeping side by side in the tent next to hers spreads hazily across her mind’s eye before her body gives in to exhaustion. 


	19. Chapter 19

Edelgard takes in the neon lights of Shambhala towering above her, and thinks she’s truly seen enough for one lifetime. It’s down here, deep beneath the pretty greenery of Goneril territory, that her faith was manufactured for her. Dimitri and Byleth refuse to move from beside her for any longer than absolutely necessary, and they serve as a constant reminder of what could have been. Her body has deteriorated, yet she still fights fiercely, perhaps even more so now that she has nothing left to lose.   


They seem to target Byleth more than anyone else. She finds her, cornered by a group of mages with those dreadful masks. Edelgard cuts down the one closest to her, creating a path to her. Byleth’s cold frown turns into a soft smile once they make eye contact. They dispose with the rest of them together, side by side. Afterwards Edelgard notices the large, oozing burn maring Byleth’s shoulder, and the deep, searing cut on her left thigh. She can hear her breathing coming heavy and irregularly. The sight of her injured so severely makes her blood run cold. Byleth gulps down a vulnerary which stops her bleeding, while Edelgard searches the bodies of the mages for a key.

She retrieves it, and they make their way to the base of those seemingly endless stairs that lead up to those ominous sliding doors. Dimitri re-joins them, looking in only slightly better shape than Byleth. The three of them ascend the stairs together, the rest of the army commanded to stay behind. The corridor is incredibly long and eerily empty, and the sound of their own breathing and footsteps become foreign to her ears the longer they spend there. The terror of what could lie beyond those doors grows greater the closer they near them, but she’s not afraid. She just has to see him die with her own eyes, and her journey will finally be over. She’s the one to open the door, and the first one to enter.   


Another set of stairs, even grander than the last, meaning an uneven plain for them to traverse while he rains all manner of strange and terrible spells down on them. It’s different, fighting without her axe and heavy armour. With no shield, she has to rely on her own dexterity and wills to keep herself alive. Still, she is faster than she imagined she was, and dodges each blow without so much as losing her footing. He raises a barrier once they get close enough, an intricate red framework that he hides behind. Dimitri raises his lance against it, but it achieves nothing. Byleth tries, then, and manages to make a crack in the panel. It seems only her sword can have any effect on it. She drives it downwards, sparks furiously flying in all directions. Edelgard keeps her eyes on Thales. He bends down, one hand still outstretched to maintain the barrier, but the other is ghosting over the floor in a strange motion. She panics. 

‘Faster! Before- ‘

As soon as the words leave her mouth, The Sword of the Creator makes a significant hole in the exterior. Byleth enters his domain and drives the sword through his chest, keeping him pinned to the ground. Dimitri joins her, and Edelgard does too, falling to her knees above him and driving her dagger deep into his neck. He falls, finally, Areadbharr through his stomach and her knife in his throat.   


She stands beside Dimitri and they stare at his corpse, as if afraid that it could reanimate and come back to life again. His chest is heaving, and so is hers, and they’re close enough to one another that she can feel his body heat. Thales is dead. They all are, to her knowledge. And even If there’s any others left, they’ll be easy monitored and quelled now. Relief pours over her like a rain shower after a drought, even though she knows she doesn’t deserve to feel it. This victory is for Dimitri, not for her. Still, exacting the revenge that she too had fantasized about many times- she can’t help but feel something.

‘It’s over, El. We did it.’

She nods. 

‘You’re free now, Dimitri.’ 

He looks at her, and then back to the body. She wagers she and Byleth are the only two people in the world who can understand even half of what he’s feeling in that moment. He lost so much, but not everything. He still has a reason to push forward, to claim the second chance at life that he deserves. 

‘So are you.’ He says, the very reply that Edelgard had been waiting to hear. And he’s right, in a sense, but not in the way that he’s likely imagining.   


Dimitri and Byleth were born with time on their sides, and Edelgard was not. The weight of being born with two crests has never left her, even now. She knows that all of her efforts have not been for nothing. The Empire will be reinstated should the people wish it, the Church will be dismantled from the inside out, and most importantly, Thales is dead. Dimitri and Byleth will carefully re-assemble and complete Fodlan like a puzzle, and she is an unneeded piece. She’s not angry though, not anymore. Rather, she’s not sure that she’s capable of feeling much of anything. The damage that was done to her is beyond any chance of repair. Now she can at least die with few regrets. When things were at their worst, that was more than she had thought possible.


	20. Chapter 20

The march back to Fhirdiad was a happy one. The combined forces of the Kingdom army and the Knights of Seiros had overwhelmed the already heavily depleted infantry that Thales had commanded, and so casualties were very few. Dimitri laughed and joked with Alois, and she even saw his ever-stoic vassal crack a smile once or twice. Byleth stuck by her side the entire time. She said little, but her smile was soft and golden, and at one point, she even linked Edelgard’s arm in her own, and lay her head to rest on her shoulder when they sat around the campfire. 

Standing as she is now, in the chilly reception hall of the castle, she swears she can still feel the warmth of her cheek, the reassuring strength in her muscled arm holding tight to her own. Byleth is a light that simply refuses to go out on her. It’s starting to get dark outside, and the castle staff are busying themselves with preparing the candles for the evening.Their light glows orange against the rugged cobblestone walls. It’s different from the palace she grew up in, but still beautiful nonetheless. 

Byleth and Dimitri find her then, both of them dressed in their house clothes. Byleth is wearing black shorts, but with a thick knit black sweater instead of her t-shirt. She’s happy to see it- she looks best in that colour. Dimitri’s white shirt is loose and haphazardly tucked into his trousers, and Edelgard can’t help but notice that, in combination with the eye patch, he rather resembles a pirate. 

‘I think this calls for a celebration.’ Byleth says, smiling. They arrived back at the castle this morning, but only now do they finally have the chance to see one another again. 

‘I should have known you’d suggest that.’ Dimitri chuckles in response. He turns to Edelgard.

‘What do you say?’

She mostly wants to refuse outright, but it  _ was _ Byleth’s idea, after all. 

‘What kind of celebration did you have in mind? I’m not in the mood for a ball, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘No, nothing so stiff as that. A feast, essentially. With plenty of alcohol.’

‘Oh.’ That shouldn’t really surprise her, actually. She’s always known Byleth to have an enormous appetite. This will be her last night with them, her last night in this world. She supposes she has nothing to lose.

The dining hall is packed from rafter to rafter with soldiers, and everyone is getting progressively noisier. The smell of alcohol and roast meat fills her nostrils. Byleth is rather animated, too, and very drunk- thought it had taken the best part of three hours for her to reach that state. She’s a heavyweight, just like her father. Edelgard only takes tiny sips from her wine, and Dimitri doesn’t drink at all. 

Byleth stands to lead yet another toast, her third in the past few minutes. The first, to their victory, which roused the entire hall into standing applause. The second, to Dimitri, and then she whispered something in his ear that made his entire face go red. She winces when Byleth comes to stand beside her, drink in one hand, her free hand resting on her shoulder as she raises her glass.

‘Another toast...to her..!’ 

She breathes a sigh of relief when Byleth remembers not to mention her by name. The last thing they need is a riot breaking out at the mention of the former Adrestrian Emperor- although most of the soldiers are too drunk to have even noticed her attempt- only Dimitri and a few others raise their glasses. The relief doesn’t last long, however, with how near Byleth is to her now. She’s leaning in, and her lips are pursed, aimed right for her own. Edelgard’s entire body freezes in spot, like a deer in the headlights. Byleth is so close now, close enough that she can feel her warm breath on her face, smell the alcohol on her lips. She moves swiftly so that the kiss lands on her cheek instead. Her lips are even softer than she remembers, and they linger there for a few moments. She feels as though the entire hall is staring at them. Byleth laughs, withdraws, and kisses the top of her head a few times, murmuring affectionately, words that shouldn’t be applied to someone like her. Edelgard’s heart is threatening to burst through her chest. 

Once Byleth sits down again and becomes absorbed in another conversation, she seizes the chance to leave. This is getting dangerous, now. She needs to get away from them before her imagination gets carried away. She stands shakily, rattling the cutlery on the table more than she had intended to.

Dimitri stands when she does, and silently offers to walk back with her. She noticed that he seemed to be just as uncomfortable as her for the duration of the celebration. She doesn’t quite know why, but she accepts his offer with a stiff nod. They walk back quietly together, enjoying the view of the city from the windows. She’s surprised by how easy the atmosphere between them is now. Her mind starts wandering, away from him, away from Byleth, towards her impending faith. For the first time since the idea came to her, she feels anxiety pricking at her like a thousand tiny needles. To think that this is her last night with them, her last in this world, suddenly feels surreal. 

She’s drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of dashing footsteps. She turns around, drawing her dagger on instinct. It’s just Byleth. She runs all the way to them, and then stops abruptly before them.

‘Where are you two going without me?’ She pouts. Dimitri laughs softly and puts his arm around her waist, and she leans into his touch.

‘We’re going to bed. You should too.’

‘I don’t want to sleep yet.’

‘Then you can sleep later. But don’t overdo it.’

Byleth entwines his hand in her own, and then reaches for Edelgard, pulling her close to do the same. 

‘Don’t go off and leave me all by myself.’ She says, looking into space. Her voice is sleepy, and there’s no gravity behind her words. Edelgard feels a weight settling in her stomach all the same.

‘We won’t.’ Says Dimitri, and he’s smiling at her, not Byleth. She clenches her jaw, and squeezes Byleth’s hand tight before releasing it. Byleth accepts that as good night, and pulls away from them, back towards the dining hall. She watches her as she goes. Once Byleth is out of sight, they continue walking, but the silence is no longer comforting. 

‘I’ve never seen her like this.’ She says, hoping to find something to drive away the panic that’s about to twist itself around her throat in his answer.

‘She’s quite...energetic, when she’s drunk. I should have warned you beforehand. During our campaign, she suggested a celebration at every possible chance.’ He smiles, and his gaze turns wistful.

‘By the way, there’s something I wanted to give to you.’

She holds her breath- yet another gift. She wonders, briefly, if it’s going to be a dagger. 

He produces a small pouch from his pocket, the kind that you store jewelry in. She takes it, and tentatively reaches inside. It’s a locket. The intricately engraved initials,  _ P.V.H, _ tell her that it belonged to her mother.

‘Oh.’ Comes her weak response. 

‘I found it a few years ago. I still have a few keepsakes like this left, but I suppose you don’t have any now. I’d prefer if you took it.’

She holds it, the silver heavy and smooth. 

‘Thank you. That’s kind of you.’

‘Think nothing of it.’

She bids him goodnight and makes for her room. Once inside, she leans against the solid oak door, closes her eyes and sighs. The heat of her body has warmed the silver of the locket, and it’s warm and solid in her closed palm. Not even death will come easily for her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just in case anyone is confused about this, edelgard is still believed to be dead by the general public, so that's why she's living secretly (even though most people who are in their probably circle know, or at least suspect, who she is)


	21. Chapter 21

Dimitri awakes with a strange feeling in his chest. He peers out the window, and sees that the sun is only beginning to rise. It’s far too early to feel this alert. He turns, from his side to his back, and then onto his stomach, face pressed against the pillow. It’s no use. He knows this feeling, even if he can’t put a name to it. It’s tension, of some description, and the sense that something is about to go wrong.   


He sits up to look at Byleth. Her chest is rising and falling in a steady motion, and she looks to be in a deep sleep, judging from how the hand that rests by her face is covered in her own drool. He surveys the room, and sees her clothes spread messily across the floor. He doesn’t remember hearing her come in- he must have been asleep.   


She seems fine. It must be something else. He stands and dresses himself, trying not to fluster himself into a hurry, but his heart is beating faster with each second that passes. Her name flickers in his mind, like the small blue flames of an impending fire. His feet carry him to her bedroom as if on instinct, and he knocks once, twice, three times, then opens the door.   


There is no one inside. Her bed is neatly made, and there is not even a single trace of her belongings anywhere. He feels panic setting in now, like a hand around his throat. Edelgard is nowhere to be found. The guard on that floor tells him that he was on duty all night, and that he saw her come in but didn’t see her leave. His running footsteps echo in the early morning silence.   


He tries to rouse Byleth from her drunken slumber, but she will hardly budge. With all other methods failing, he pinches her nose for a few seconds, trying his best to be gentle. Finally, she awakes. She rolls over in her nightgown, cracks one eye open, and groans. 

‘What, Dimitri…’

He doesn’t wait for her to fully come around.

‘El’s gone.’

She blinks at him, groggily, and after a moment she springs into an upright position. Her hair is disheveled from sleep. 

‘Gone?’

‘Her room is empty, but no one saw her leave. The guards are still searching, but-’

How much time has already passed since she left? She could be anywhere at this point. She could be…

No. He doesn’t have time to think about that now. 

‘I have a bad feeling. We need to start searching for her right away.’ 

Byleth stares past his shoulder, and the look in her eyes is devastating. 

‘I knew she would leave.’ Her voice is distant. 

‘Well, do you know where she is?’ He probes, feeling himself growing more anxious with every word she says. 

‘No.’

‘Then, I’ll go east, and you go west. I’ll send search parties in every direction. We’re sure to find-’

‘Dimitri.’ She cuts him off, her voice tender and her hand grasping his arm. 

‘She...asked me to promise…not to search for her, if she disappeared.’ 

He grits his teeth.

‘You don’t mean to tell me that you intend to keep that promise, Byleth. This is Edelgard we’re talking about.’

Her eyes grow sadder still, and she pulls her knees up to her chest, sitting a small distance from him now.

‘You’re right. I should, but I can’t. She pauses, and he sees tears welling in her eyes. ‘ I don’t want to lose her again.’ 

_ Me neither,  _ he thinks, and the sight of her crying momentarily subsides the disquiet brewing in his heart. He moves closer to her to stroke her cheek.

‘I’ll go now. You can head out when you’re ready.’

She nods, and he leaves, even though the thought of being away from her right now is near unbearable.   


Upon reaching the stables, he finds Dedue already waiting for him, their horses tacked and ready to go. The vastness of his gratitude for his help, his presence, is inexpressible at the best of times, but right now he can only manage a weak smile as thanks. Dedue nods in response, and they mount in silence, just the two of them.   


She’s not dead- he knows that much. If she were, her voice would have come to him by now. He heard Rodrigue the very night he died, but in those five years that he believed Byleth and Dedue to be gone, not once did they haunt him. He knows this kind of thinking worries Dedue, so he won’t mention it aloud. But maybe those voices can be good for something. Sometimes.

Knowing exactly where to search, he heads straight for the coast, and Dedue follows without question. Fhirdiad is close to the ocean- it takes only a quarter of a day to reach it. In fact, he’d read before that the castle was supposed to be built overlooking the water, but fear of flooding after snowy winters drove them further inwards. They ask any passers-by in the small fishing towns dotted along the way if they’ve seen her, a small girl with dark hair. He curses that dye- her physical description is far more conspicuous that it would have been, were it still that bright white. None of them have. He grows more agitated with each response.

The sun is only fully settling into the sky when they happen upon an old man fishing on a river. 

‘Excuse me, sir. Did you happen to see a young woman pass this way?’ Asks Dedue. The man nods, not looking up from the hook that he’s attaching a worm to. 

‘What did she look like?’ Says Dimitri, impatient with the lack of proper response. He digs his heel into the ground, grinding it into the soil and digging up the grass. The man looks at him with barely concealed disdain, but humours them nonetheless.

‘Small. Dark hair. Went down there.’ He points north, towards the ocean. Dimitri takes off before he can offer a thank you, which Dedue does in his stead.   


The morning fog has lifted once they reach their destination, and the dark expanse of the ocean in its entirety is revealed to them. It’s terrifying. The ground is rocky underfoot, and the horses are unsettled. The cold air is harsh and salty. He looks out at the giant basalt structures that point outwards from the water like sharp teeth. The thought of Edelgard here, alone, is enough to make him feel ill. The shore stretches on for miles and miles, further than the eye can see. Still, he scans as well as he can, searching for a sign of her. They dismount and tie their horses to a nearby tree.   


‘We’ll search the entire shoreline. You go west, and I’ll go east.’ 

Dedue nods solemnly, and turns. He does the same, advancing forwards. He doesn’t care if it takes all day and night- he’ll upturn every stone on the ground if it means finding some trace of her.   


She was always afraid of water. He liked to play by a small lake near Arundel’s residence, and tried to bring her along one day. He still remembers how terrified she looked, standing petrified by the edge. He looks out at the ocean, and imagines her, her tiny frame swallowed up by the waves. 


	22. Chapter 22

He has no idea how much time has passed. Even a scrap of her clothing would suffice- something to hold onto. It’s cruel beyond words, that she would come back into his life like this only to slip away once more. He’s angry, but not at her- not really. Angry that he was never enough for her, maybe. Mostly, though, he’s furious at the world that failed her, how she was trained to keep out those who could have helped her. He finally understands her feelings- and he loves her, truly and deeply, no matter how much anger and grief try to mar it. If only he’d had a chance to express it to her.

Exhausted, he keeps going. He shouts her name towards the water, but no one responds. It’s dark now, and he still hasn’t reached the end. Eventually, Dedue finds him, just like he always does.

‘We should return now.’ Dimitri shakes his head.

‘No. You go on ahead.’

Dedue sighs, and shifts in place.

‘You know that I cannot do that. We must leave now.’

‘I’m not leaving, Dedue. Not until I- I find… at least...something. I can’t- can’t accept this.’

‘I’m not asking you to accept anything. It is simply too dangerous to stay out all night. Also, Byleth must have returned by now. She may be in need of your company. The ocean is not far from the castle- we can continue our search again in the morning, if need be.’

He stops where he stands and stares at the ground. The image of Byleth crying this morning comes back to him, and the anger boiling in his chest dissipates, replaced by a very heavy kind of sadness. Edelgard is not dead yet- he knows it. He cannot return without her, for Byleth’s sake.

‘Dedue-’ 

‘Just until the fog clears, Dimitri. I will join you again as soon as you require me. There may be news from the other search parties, and we can survey the surrounding areas once more on our way back.’

He squeezes his good eye shut. He knows that Dedue is right, but giving up now feels a lot like accepting that she is dead. 

‘We will not find her without any light. Also, the horses will not carry us much further.’ Dedue’s voice is soft, willing him to give in. He hates worrying him.

After a few more moments of thought he silently obliges, following Dedue back to where their horses are stationed. The ride back feels surreal, and very short. They’re nearing the gates to the castle before he knows it. He dismounts, and Dedue leads both of their horses through the entrance and towards the stables, wordlessly bidding each other goodnight. He catches a glimpse of Ashe through the archway- he must have been waiting for Dedue. He knows he should check on Byleth straight away, but the thought of facing her with bad news, of seeing those sad eyes well up with tears again, drives him away.

He opts to circle the perimeter of the castle instead, making his way slowly towards the back entrance. It’s empty. His footsteps against the cobblestone echo in the silence.This time last night he and Edelgard were talking together like old friends. Byleth knew that she was planning something like this, but she never told him. He makes Edelgard uncomfortable- that much is clear. He’s overbearing, and cares far more than she does, for better or for worse. Try as he might, could never strike a balance when it came to her. Love or hatred, it was still an obsession, and now that he’s aware of it, it makes him deeply uncomfortable too. He doesn’t blame her for keeping him away.

As he rounds the corner, a figure comes into view. Small, their face is obscured by a hood, and they’re staring at the high castle walls, built that way to keep intruders out. His shoulders tense.

They turn, when his footsteps become audible, and those familiar eyes are staring him down. She stands, frozen, as though struck by a spell. He holds his breath, and closes the distance between them. A hand on her forearm, to ensure that she’s real and not a hallucination. She doesn’t pull away.

‘El?’ He asks, finally. His voice is strange to his ears, higher pitched than usual and wavering. She sighs. It’s her, as sure as the moon rises in the night sky.

‘You’re never going to stop calling me that, are you?’ It’s a sharp remark, though her tone is soft. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say. 

‘Would...you prefer if I stopped?’

A small pause.

‘I thought Byleth would have told you not to look for me.’ She deflects his question, staring at the uneven pavement beneath their feet. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

‘She did.’

‘I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you ignored her.’

The sound of horse hooves clacking on the stone road beside them drown out his thoughts for a moment. The atmosphere is heavy, and he’s terrified that he’s going to ruin this, ruin their last chance, and she’ll disappear into the night again.

‘She was looking for you, too.’

‘Hm. She broke her promise then.’

He pauses. There’s no point in withholding anymore.

‘We couldn’t leave you alone.’

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, then turns her back flat against the wall, leaning against it, arms crossed over her chest. He’s never seen posture so unrefined, but it suits her well. She holds eye contact with him for a while, but her expression is unreadable.

‘I don’t know what to do, Dimitri.’ 

He turns to face her fully, swallowing the lump in his throat.

‘Tell me everything. I want to listen.’

She runs her hands over the stone behind her, her fingers fanning over the cold surface.

‘That’s something you’re demonstrably quite bad at, though.’ 

He thinks he catches a small smile on her lips, but it’s hard to tell in the dark. 

‘Let me try again, then.’

She’s quiet for a long time, her eyes glazed over in deep thought. His skin is itching with anxiety.

‘Lately...I have been struggling to decipher how much of my ambition- my personality- is my own, and how much of it was constructed for me.’ She says, finally, her voice quiet, yet still carrying as much strength as it ever did. 

‘Well…’ he starts, but he has no idea where he’s going. He stops himself, then, his sentence trailing off into the cold air, and nods at her, encouraging her to continue. He told her he would listen, after all.

‘You seem to have done quite a good job in figuring that out in yourself.’ She says, after some time. He stops to gather his thoughts for a second.

He’s surprised- he never really thought about it in that way, but she’s right. It was Arundel who caused Duscur, who set this landslide of misfortunate events into motion, who sent him spiralling down that treacherous path. He did the same to both of them, in the hopes that they kill one another, likely to spare him the effort of having to do himself. And yet, here they are- war has come and gone, but they’re still standing. He knows who they have to thank for that.

‘I wouldn’t have managed that if I had not had Byleth. I have never been able to see the wood for the trees, when left to my volition.’ He pauses, and gestures to where his left eye was in a move that would make Alois beam with pride.

‘Especially now.’ 

He has no idea how or why that joke came to him in that moment, but she smiles, and the mood lightens tenfold. 

‘Heh, you were fortunate, in that regard. Quite frankly, I’m jealous.’

He doesn’t have to think about his response this time. 

‘I don’t think there’s any cause for jealousy at this point, El. She holds you very dear. She always has.’

She casts her gaze aside then, in that small, sad way that makes him want to hold onto her and never let go.

‘You seem happy now.’ She offers, tentatively, as if seeking confirmation of something unbelievable. 

‘I am.’

They’re quiet. This is far too delicate- he doesn’t trust himself at all. He wishes Byleth would come around the corner now, before he can come down too heavily and destroy it. 

He clears his throat.

‘For what it’s worth, El, your desire to help those who need it the most has always belonged solely to you.’

She’s quiet, and then she smiles. He breathes. 

‘And my stubbornness, no doubt.’

He laughs, perhaps a little too loudly. 

‘That too.’ 

She stops closer to him. 

‘Perhaps the two of you could help me solve my crisis of identity.’

‘O-of course.’

She reaches, on the tips of her toes, to wrap her arms around his neck. He stiffens completely- she has to use some force to get him to crane towards her. _ Right. A hug. She wants a hug. _He moves a shaky arm to the small of her back, rests it there for a moment, and he can feel the ridges of her spine under his hand. He slowly moves his other hand to her waist, and holds her as gently as he possibly can.

‘You can hug me tighter, you know. I won’t break.’

Her head is pressed into his chest, and her voice is muffled. He tries his best, but can’t seem to let himself hold her much closer. 

‘Thanks.’ she says, once he tightens his grip a little, and he can hear that she’s laughing. He doesn’t know what she’s thanking him for.

‘You’re...um… you’re welcome.’

He thinks she’s back, but he’s not certain. He wants to offer her one last thing, something to keep her here with him, with Byleth. 

‘And, El, if- when, the Empire is reinstated, I would-’

She moves both of her arms to wrap around his waist, pushing her head a little more forcefully into his chest.

‘Let’s worry about that later.’ she says. He laughs too, then, and allows himself to squeeze her a little tighter. He hears footsteps, and cranes his neck to look over his shoulder.

Byleth is there, in her pyjamas. Her face falls in shock, first, then the widest smile he’s ever seen on her, and then she’s crying. Edelgard pulls away from him to see what he’s looking at, and bursts into tears too, as soon as she realizes who’s there. He removes his arms from around her, and watches Byleth hold her against her chest, stroking her hair and whispering to her. Edelgard has her arms wrapped tightly around her waist, and she looks as though she’s never going to let go. It’s the happiest scene he’s ever known. 

_ Yes, _ he thinks_. We can worry about all of that later. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just wanted to say a massive thank you to anyone who got this far!! i know this work around isn't perfect but it's something that just wouldn't leave me alone until i wrote it down, and i'm honestly surprised and amazed that anyone but me and like...two other friends actually enjoyed it!! thanks to everyone who left kudos or a comment especially, not to sound cheesy but those mean a lot more than you might realize. please share any thoughts or ideas you have with me, that makes me really happy! i don't know if many other people like this OT3 but i am crazy for them so there may be more in the future (possibly set after this fic).
> 
> thanks again <3
> 
> also, i'd like to write an epilogue (or at least some one-shots set after this story) so if anyone out there has any requests or prompts they'd be interested in (for dimileth, edeleth, dimigard or all 3) you can send it to me on tumblr @ cloud-bustings ! (no guarantees that i'll write it but i'll do my best)


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